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^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  ^%r 


Presented   bymv-^.  C\v^o\  A  6\v^^  O^. 
BR    1725    .G67    H34    1858  ^ 

Hall,    Newman,    1816-1902. 
The   Christian  philosopher 
triumphing   over   death 


THE 


CHRISTIAN  PHILOSOPHER 

TRIUMPHING  OVER  DEATH. 

SI  Mar  ratine 

OP   THE    CLOSING   SCENES    OP   THE    LIFE    OF   THE    LATS 

WILLIAM  GORDON,  M.D.  F.L.S. 

OF  KiyaSTON-UPON-HTTLI,. 

By  NEWMAN  HALL,  B.A. 


Uov  (fov,  eai/at-s,  ro  Ktvrpov ; 


PHILADELPHIA: 
HENRY  LONGSTRETH,  347  MARKET  STREET. 

1858. 


PREFACE. 


Pleasing,  yet  painful,  is  the  writer's  task.  It  is  a  luxury, 
though  a  melancholy  one,  to  watch  at  the  bed-side  of  those 
whom  we  dearly  love,  to  administer  to  their  wants,  and  to 
share,  and  thus  alleviate,  their  sufferings.  When  these  offices 
of  affection  can  no  longer  be  performed,  there  is  a  sad  satis- 
faction in  still  bending  over  the  lifeless  frame,  and  following 
it  to  its  last  resting-place.  And  when  both  spirit  and  body 
are  withdrawn,  is  there  not  a  similar  delight  to  be  derived 
from  lingering  around  the  memory  of  the  departed,  and  pic- 
turing as  still  present,  what,  alas,  is  gone  for  ever  1 

With  such  feelings,  the  author  of  this  narrative  takes  up 
his  pen.  Happy  to  be  thus  still  associated  with  the  dead,  yet 
reminded  by  every  sentence  he  writes,  of  the  irreparable  loss 
he  has  sustained.  What  was  not  the  deceased  to  him !  Coun- 
sellor, Companion,  Friend,  Brother,  Partner  in  his  studies, 
his  pleasures,  and  his  cares,  one  in  public  sympathies  and  lite- 
rary tastes,  linked  in  love  to  him  as  were  the  souls  of  Jonathan 
and  David,  and  above  all,  Father,  not  merely  to  his  other  self, 
but  by  the  tenderest,  the  most  unwavering  affection,  to  him 
also.  Well  may  he  say  with  the  Patriarch  Job—"  Have  pity 
upon  me,  O  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath  touched 
me!" 

Anotfler  weight  which  painfully  oppresses  the  mind  of  the 


IV  PREFACE. 

writer,  is  the  deeply-felt  incompetence  to  do  justice  to  hia 
theme.  His  object  is  not  to  eulogize  the  dead,  but  to  benefit 
the  living,  by  exhibiting  the  value  of  that  religion  which  could 
so  wonderfully  sustain  the  deceased  amid  severe  and  pro- 
tracted sufferings,  and  which  enabled  him  to  anticipate  the 
future,  with  peace,  and  even  with  rapture.  But  the  scenes 
exhibited  in  that  chamber  of  affliction,  no  power  the  writer 
possesses  is  adequate  to  describe.  He  feels  he  can  never  con- 
vey a  just  impression  to  those  who  did  not  witness  it,  of  the 
sacred  halo  which  surrounded  that  sick  bed.  His  hand  trem- 
bles as  it  is  put  forth  to  the  task,  lest  this  remarkable  testi- 
mony to  the  truth  and  power  of  religion  should,  like  a  valu- 
able gem,  be  spoilt  in  the  setting.  Yet  he  feels  it  an  incumbent 
duty  to  make  the  attempt,  as  no  one  else  to  whom  it  might  be 
delegated  could  have  the  same  peculiar  qualifications  for  it,  as 
one  who  for  nearly  a  month  was  scarcely  ever  absent  fVom 
the  bed-side  of  the  departed,  and  who,  in  claiming  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  faithful  narrator  of  facts,  can  at  least  say — "  We 
speak  that  we  do  know,  and  testify  that  we  have  seen." 

In  humble  reliance  on  the  Giver  of  all  grace,  this  volume 
has  been  prepared.  It  is  now  sent  forth  with  earnest  p-rayer, 
that  He  would  accompany  its  perusal  with  His  Divine  blessing, 
and  that  He  would  bestow  both  upon  writer  and  readers,  a 
fulfilment  of  the  favourite  petition  of  him  whose  dying  ^y- 
ings  it  records — "  O  thou,  to  whom  all  hearts  are  open,  all 
desires  known,  and  from  whom  no  secrets  are  hid,  cleanse  the 
thoughts  of  our  hearts  by  the  inspiration  of  thy  Holy  Spirit, 
that  we  may  perfectly  love  thee,  and  worthily  magnify  tiiy 
holy  name,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  !'* 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


IS    CHRISTIANITY    FROM    GOD? — WHAT    DOES     CHRISTIANITY 
TEACH  ? — WHAT  CAN  CHRISTIANITY  EFFECT  1        ...       1 


CHAPTER  n. 

BIOGRAPHICAL. 

BORN     AT     fountains'    HALL — RIPON — EARLY    DEVOTION     TO 

STUDY — OTLEY — EDINBURG — WELTON PLAN     OF    STUDY 

RETURNED  TO  EDINBURGH,  AND  GRADUATED — SETTLED  AT 
HULL — PUBLIC  LIFE — TOTAL  ABSTINENCE — PRESIDENT  OF 
THE     HULL     CHRISTIAN    TEMPERANCE    SOCIETY — LECTURES 

TO    THE     WORKING   CLASSES PURITY    OF     HIS   MOTIVES    AS 

1* 


VI  COTTTENTS. 

A  POLITICIAN — SACRIFICE  OF  PROFESSIONAL  INTERESTS  TO 
CONVICTIONS— BENEVOLENCE  TO  THE  POOR — CHARACTER  AT 
HOME — ESPECIALLY     AS      A     FATHER — ILLNESS — VISIT     TO 

HARROGATE — TO  OTLEY  AND  FOUNTAINS TO  SCARBOROUGH 

— RETURN   TO    HULL SUFFERINGS COMPOSURE— DEATH — 

OBITUARY  FROM  THE  NEWSPAPERS — PUBLIC  MEETING  FOR 
"a   people's   MONUMENT."  .        .  »       .        .        .        8 


CHAPTER    III. 

TWO  causes  of  ANXIETY — DID  HE  BELIEVE  IN  CHRISTIANITY  " 
DID  HE  FEEL  HIS  PERSONAL  NEED  OF  A  SAVIOUR  ?      .       .       3S 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOPEFUL    INDICATIONS,    AND    ILLNESS 49 


CHAPTER    V. 

NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

SUDDEN  ALARM — NIGHT  OF  APPARENT  DEATH — NATURAL  IM- 
PULSE NOT  RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE — MESSAGE  TO  YOUNG 
MEN — WAR — COLLECTS — CATHOLICITY — ADRIAn'b  ADDRESS 
TO   HIS   SOUL.  .  60 


CONTENTS.  VU 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FROM  SUNDAY   JAN.    14,    TO    SUNDAY,    JAN.    21. 

RALLIES — LONG     FAREWELL NUMEROUS     VISITS — FIDRLITY 

OF  THE  RECORD— VARIOUS  CONVERSATIONS — ANTICIPA- 
TION OF  HEAVEN — AFFECTIONATE  REMEMBRANCE  OF 
EARTH — DESIRE     TO     PUBLISH     THE     GOSPEL — HINTS      ON 

PREACHING EVIDENCES     OF    CHRISTIANITY — HINDRANCES 

TO  AN  INQUIRER — INCONSISTENCIES  OF  PROFESSORS — 
CHRISTIANS  AFRAID  OF  INVESTIGATION — CROMWELL's 
LETTERS — MURAL  TABLET — INTERESTING  ARGUMENTA- 
TIVE DIALOGUE  ON  THE  TRUTH  OF  CHRISTIANITY — IMPO- 
TENCE OF  HUMAN  REASON — PHARAOH's  HEART  HARDENED 
— HIEROGLYPHICS — '  MY  TIMES  ARE  IN  THY  HAND' — EVAN- 
GELICAL TRUTH — A  physician's  OPPORTUNITIES  OF  PRO- 
pagating the  gospel — making  a  companion  of  god — 
Herbert's  holdfast 76 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM    SUNDAY,  JAN.    21,    TO  SUNDAY,    JAN.    28. 

christian       joy — cemetery — ETERNITY       NOT       ENTERED 

ALONE — MYSTERIES — CHRISTIANS   NOT  POOR VALLEY  OP 

THE   SHADOW    OF  DEATH — 'BE   GREAT   AND     SEEK    LITTLB 


VlU  CONTENTS. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  HOPE — TEE-TOTALISM — DIGNITY,  SAFETY  AND 
lOY  OP  THE  CHRISTIAN. 116 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FROM    SUNDAY,    JAN.    28,    TO    SUNDAY,    FEB.    4. 

THE  shepherd's  dog VARIOUS  INTERVIEWS — FUNERAL  TE5' 

TIMONY RELIGION    IN    HARMONY    WITH    REASON — LORO'a 

SUPPER — EXPERIMENTAL  EVIDENCE — EXTRACT  FROM  MR. 
knight's  funeral  SERMON — NO  DEATH  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN- 
SELECTION  OF  HIS  GRAVE — KIRKE  WHITE — ATTENTION  TO 
iV'ORLDLY    AFFAIRS — LETTER   PROM    THE    AUTHOR    OF    THE 

sinner's    FRIEND CHRISTIANS    REGARD    THEMSELVES    THC 

CHIEF  OF  SINNERS 139 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FROM    SUNDAY,    FEB.    4,    TO    HIS    DEATH,    ON 
WEDNESDAY,    FEB.    7. 

DEATH  SWALLOWED  UP  OP  LIFE — LORd's  SUPPER — INCREAS- 
i.-VG  DEBILITY — DEATH — CONCLUDINQ  ADDRESS — CHRISTI' 
ANITY  NOT  A  DELUSION — WHAT  IT  TEACHES — THE  JOY  IT 
IMPARTS « 177 


CHAPTER  I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


IB   CHRISTIANITY    FROM     GOD? — WHAT     DOES     CHRISTIANITY 
TEACH  1 WHAT    CAN   CHRISTIANITY    EFFECT? 

Is  Christianity  true  ?  What  does  Christianity  teach  ? 
What  can  Christianity  effect?  These  inquiries,  the 
following  record  of  the  closing  scenes  of  the  life  of 
a  learned  and  accomplished  physician,  is  designed 
to  illustrate.  His  ardent  love  of  truth,  wherever  it 
could  be  found,  and  his  successful  labours  to  at- 
tain it  in  almost  every  branch  of  science,  fully  en- 
title him  to  the  epithet — "  Philosopher."  After 
many  years  of  anxious  investigation  of  the  claims 
of  the  religion  revealed  in  the  New  Testament,  and 
the  most  fearless  and  candid  examination  of  every 
scheme  of  scepticism,  especially  the  materialistic, 
he  confessed  that  the  only  true  philosophy  w^as  the 
reception  of  the  gospel  as  a  little  child.  It  was 
this,  w^hich,  though  he  was  called  away  in  the  very 
prime  of  life,  in  the  matured  vigour  of  his  faculties, 
and  in  the  midst  of  his  usefulness,  from  all  that  can 

1  1 


2  INTRODUCTORY. 

make  this  world  desirable  and  dear, — imparted  tc 
him  that  unbroken  peace  and  indescribable  joy, 
in  the  immediate  prospect  of  dissolution,  which 
gave  to  those  around  him  the  edifying  and  conso- 
ling  spectacle    of  *'  the   christian  philosopher 

TRIUMPHING  OVER  DEATH." 

Reader !  have  you  ever  known  the  inward  battle 
which  doubts  and  difficulties  wage  with  a  secret 
conviction  of  the  truth  ;  at  one  time  leading  you  to 
the  very  verge  of  the  dreary  regions  of  scepticism, 
at  another  time  associating  your  tenacious  grasp  of 
religion,  with  deep  distress  and  painful  anxiety? 
In  the  following  pages,  may  you  receive  instruc- 
tion! They  contain  the  testimony  of  one  who 
could  fully  sympathize  with  you,  but  who  was 
enabled  to  fight  his  way  from  the  midst  of  the  con- 
flict, to  the  peace  of  victorious  faith. 

Reader!  with  perhaps  never  a  doubt  of  the 
divine  authority  of  the  Bible,  have  you  often 
doubted  your  own  participation  of  the  blessings 
which  it  reveals ;  and  have  the  thoughts  of  your 
guilt,  frailty,  and  temptations,  of  the  wrath  of  God, 
of  death  and  eternity,  cast  a  gloom  over  your  spirit, 
and  filled  you  with  sad  forebodings?  From  the 
following  pages  may  you  derive  consolation ! 
They  contain  the  testimony  of  one,  who,  while 
deeply  conscious  of  his  unworthiness  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  fully  alive  to  the  infinitely  momentous 
consequences  of  death,  found  an  answer  to  every 


INTRODUCTORY.  3 

doubt,  and  an  antidote  to  every  fear,  in  the  pardon- 
ing love  of  God,  manifested  in  the  perfect  atone- 
ment of  Jesus  Christ.  May  the  fulfilment  of  the 
promise,  which  he  so  amply  realized,  be  the  happy 
experience  of  all  who  peruse  this  volume — "  Thou 
shalt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace,  whose  mind  is 
stayed  on  thee,  because  he  trusteth  in  thee.'* 

Whatever  opinion  be  held  respecting  its  divine 
authority,  and  distinguishing  doctrines,  Christianity 
itself,  is  unquestionably,  a  great  fact  in  the  history 
of  the  human  race.  In  its  initial  form,  Judaism,  it 
has  existed  from  the  very  earliest  ages ;  and  in  its 
more  complete  development,  it  has  been  acknow- 
ledged in  a  greater  or  less  degree  by  the  most 
civilized  nations  of  the  earth.  Minds  of  the  highest 
cultivation  have  bowed  before  it,  and  the  mightiest 
intellects  have  done  it  homage.  The  poor  have 
professed  that  it  has  made  them  wealthier  than  if 
all  the  riches  of  the  universe  were  in  their  posses- 
sion ;  while  the  broken-hearted  have  declared,  that 
it  has  afforded  them  consolation,  when  all  other 
sources  of  comfort  were  dried  up.  In  connection 
with  a  cordial  reception  of  it,  the  most  extraordi- 
nary transformations  of  character  have  taken  place  ; 
and  savage  tribes,  beneath  its  potent  influence, 
have,  with  marvellous  rapidity,  lost  their  ferocity, 
and  manifested  an  advanced  civilization.  Chris 
tianity,  therefore,  is  a  great  fact ;  and  as  such,  un- 
questionably demands  from  everv  thoughtful  mind^ 


4  INTRODUCTORY. 

a  candid  examination  of  its  claims.  Is  it  from 
God?  If  so,  what  does  it  teach?  None  can 
neglect  these  inquiries  as  unworthy  their  attention, 
and  claim  for  themselves  at  the  same  time  the 
character  of  philosophers. 

How  can  satisfaction  be  obtained  in  reference  to 
the  first  of  these  questions?  We  may  point  to  pro- 
phecies fulfilled,  and  miracles  performed,  in  con- 
nection with  an  unimpeachable  testimony,  and  an 
indisputable  chain  of  historical  evidence,  and  say 
— Behold  the  proof!  Or  we  may  take  up  the  au- 
thoritative standard  of  the  religion,  and  referring  to 
its  elevating  sentiments,  its  pure  morality,  its  bene- 
volent precepts,  its  adaptation  to  human  wants  and 
human  w^oes;  looking  at  the  religion  itself,  so  un- 
like anything  else  which  man  ever  devised,  so  un- 
likely to  have  originated  with  man,  w^e  might  say 
— Behold  our  proof!  Or  an  individual  might  be 
selected,  as  an  example  of  its  operation — one  who 
had  candidly  investigated  its  claims ;  who  had  pro- 
foundly studied  the  objections  brought  against  it ; 
w^hose  deliberate  conclusion,  after  such  a  course  of 
inquiry  was,  that  it  possessed  divine  authority,  and 
on  whose  spiritual  nature  a  change  was  produced 
by  the  hearty  reception  of  its  truths,  such  as  he  de- 
clared no  system  of  human  reason,  and  no  influence, 
less  than  divine,  could  have  effected,  and  again  we 
might  say — Behold  our  proof! 

Such  is  the  nature  of  the  evidence  furnished  b^' 


X  INTRODUCTORY.  5 

the  ^ase  of  Dr.  Gordon.  And  though  such  evi- 
dence may  not  be  regarded  as  conclusive,  when 
taken  alone,  yet  in  connection  with,  and  in  corro- 
boration of,  other  proof,  it  is  a  legitimate  argument. 
The  actual  production  of  a  certain  effect,  must  be 
one  of  the  best  evidences  that  the  cause  was  ade- 
quate to  its  production.  The  human  soul  has  been 
so  constituted  by  its  Creator,  as  to  require  for  its 
complete  satisfaction,  something  which  Christianity 
professes  to  be  alone  able  to  supply.  Man  has,  by 
sin,  brought  on  himself  a  spiritual  disease,  and 
exposed  himself  to  spiritual  sorrows  and  fears, 
which  Christianity  professes  to  be  alone  able  to 
cure  and  to  remove.  In  connection  with  the  satis- 
fying these  demands  of  human  nature,  it  claims  to 
be  acknowledged  as  possessing  a  divine  origin. 
If  those  pretensions  fail  to  be  verified,  that  claim 
must  of  course  be  disallowed.  But  if,  while  all 
other  appliances  are  inadequate  to  supply  the  deep 
cravings  of  the  human  soul,  Christianity  is  found  to 
be  more  than  sufficient  for  all  its  wants,  this  is 
surely  some  argument  in  favour  of  its  claims.  The 
confession  of  a  mind  which  had  the  strongest  de- 
sire, and  the  amplest  opportunity  for  investigation, 
that  the  satisfaction  it  sought  was  to  be  found  no 
where  but  in  the  Gospel,  must  be  some  confirma- 
tion of  its  truth.  Some  corroboration  is  given  us  ih 
the  conversion  of  the  Apostle  Paul.  Such,  in  some 
1*   . 


INTRODUCTORY. 


degree,  is  the  influence  of  the  reception  of  our  reli- 
gion by  any  mind  peculiarly  gifted.  And  such  is 
the  case  here. 

But,  in  immediate  connection  with  the  inquiry, 
"Is  Christianity  from  God,"  arises  another,  "What 
does  Christianity  teach?"     The  two  questions  in- 
deed cannot  be  separated,  for  the  investigation  of 
the  second  forms  a  considerable  feature  in  the  study 
of  the    first.  '  But  when    satisfied    respecting  the 
former,  then  the  latter  inquiry  returns  upon  us  with 
increased  weight  of  importance.     For  if  God  has 
indeed  revealed  his  will  to  man,  what  can  be  more 
obviously  our  duty  and  our  interest,  than  to  possess 
coi .ect  ideas  of  what  that  will  is?     The  reply  of 
Dr.  Gordon  to  both  these  questions  will  be  clearly 
gathered  from  the  reiterated  testimony  he  gave  on 
his  dying  bed.     Nothing  could  exceed  the  strength 
of  his  confidence,  that  Christianity  is  from  God — 
and  that  its  essential  nature  is  an  entire  renuncia- 
tion of  self,  with  an  humble  reliance  on  the  mercy 
of  God  the  Father,  through  the  perfect  atonement  of 
the  Son,  by  the  aid  of  the  regenerating  influences 
of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

The  following  narrative  will  also  illustrate  the 
effect  which  a  cordial  reception  of  these  truths  can 
produce.  It  will  be  seen,  that  while  human  philo- 
sophy was  unable  to  give  a  satisfactory  solution  of 
the  great  problems  of  the  soul,  and  while  human 


INTRODUCTORY. 


virtue  was  insufficient  for  a  foundation  on  which 
hope  might  build  in  anticipation  of  a  future  exis- 
tence, faith  in  Christ  could  satisfy  every  doubt, 
remove  every  anxiety,  and  impart  a  "  peace  which 
passeth  all  understanding.'* 


CHAPTER    II. 

BIOGRAPHICAL. 

BORN   AT   fountains'    HALL— RIPON— EARLY    DEVOTION     TO 
STUDY— OTLEY— EDINBURGH — ^WELTON— PLAN     OF   STUDY 

RETURNED    TO    EDINBURGH,    AND    GRADUATED — SETTLED 

AT    HULL PUBLIC  LIFE — TOTAL  ABSTINENCE PRESIDENT 

OP  THE  HULL  CHRISTIAN  TEMPERANCE  SOCIETY LEC- 
TURES TO  THE  WORKING  CLASSES — PURITY  OF  HIS  MO- 
TIVES AS  A  POLITICIAN — SACRIFICE  OF  PROFESSIONAL 
INTERESTS    TO  CONVICTIONS — BENEVOLENCE  TO  THE  POOR 

CHARACTER     AT     HOME ESPECIALLY    AS    A     FATHER 

ILLNESS VISIT  TO  HARROGATE TO  OTLEY  AND  FOUN- 
TAINS— TO  SCARBOROUGH — RETURN  TO  HULL — SUFFER- 
INGS— COMPOSURE — DEATH — OBITUARY  FROM  THE  NEWS- 
PAPERS— PUBLIC  MEETING  FOR  "  A  PEOPLE's    MONUMENT." 

Beneath  the  venerable  ruins  of  the  far-famed 
abbey  of  Fountains,  majestic  even  in  decay,  sur- 
rounded by  the  loveliest  scenery,  and  embosomed 
in  the  luxuriant  foliage  of  stately  forest-trees,  stands 
the  large  ancient  mansion  called  Fountains'  Hall, 
m  which  the  subject  of  this  memoir  was  born,  on 
the  2nd  of  August,  1801.     His  ancestors  were  all 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  y 

highly  respectable,  moving  in  good  society,  and 
many  of  them  distinguished  by  high  literary  attain- 
ments. The  celebrated  Daniel  de  Foe,  was  re- 
motely connected  with  the  family.  From  his 
parents,  who  were  both  possessed  of  very  superior 
intelligence,  he  early  imbibed  that  love  for  study 
which  distinguished  him  through  the  whole  of  life. 

He  acquired  the  rudiments  of  learning  at  the 
grammar-school  of  the  adjacent  city  of  Ripon, 
where  the  amiability  of  his  disposition,  combined 
with  his  extraordinary  mental  abilities,  commanded 
the  love  and  respect  of  his  schoolfellows.  Very 
soon  after  his  entrance,  he  was  placed  in  the  first 
class  of  the  upper  school ;  and  being  much  younger 
than  any  of  his  class-mates,  he  w^as  obliged  to  work 
very  hard,  in  order  to  maintain  his  superiority. 
Though  so  young  a  boy,  he  often  would  sit  up  till 
one  or  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  over  his  books, 
assisted  by  his  mother  in  his  favourite  classical 
studies,  in  which  he  made  great  proficiency.  He 
was  especially  distinguished  for  his  elegant  Latin 
verses. 

After  leaving  school,  he  was  articled  to  a  general 
practitioner  at  Otley,  where  his  blameless  conduct, 
and  his  kind  interest  in  the  sorrows  of  those  with 
whom  his  professional  engagements  brought  him 
into  contact,  won  for  him  universal  esteem.  He 
was  there,  as  he  continued  through  life,  the  friend 
of  the  poor.     The  author  can  never  forget  the  de- 


10  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

light  and  affection  manifested  by  an  humble  cottagei 
at  Leighley,  to  whom  Dr.  Gordon  with  his  family 
paid  an  unexpected  visit,  after  an  absence  of  twenty 
five  years  from  the  locality.  The  unaffected  kind- 
ness of  the  youth,  and  his  anxious  interest  in  the 
affliction  of  that  poor  woman,  so  different  from  a 
merely  official,  hurried,  and  heartless  visitation,  had 
left  an  impression  too  deep  for  time  to  wear  away. 
Nor  was  this  a  solitary  instance,  the  author  having 
ascertained  from  various  quarters,  that  notwithstand- 
ing the  changes  which  occur  during  so  long  a 
period,  numerous  are  the  households  where  his  name 
is  yet  familiar  and  dear,  and  where  the  memory  of 
his  benevolent  and  lovely  demeanour  has  lost  none 
of  its  freshness. 

His  father  was  a  man  of  most  amiable  disposition, 
and  had  a  great  love  for  scientific  pursuits ;  but  as 
is  often  the  case  with  such  characters,  he  was  im- 
provident, and  his  fortune  suffered  a  reverse  before 
the  subject  of  this  memoir  had  completed  his 
studies.  This,  however,  did  not  daunt  him  in  his 
course.  Fearing  to  be  a  burden  to  his  parents,  but 
at  the  same  time  determined  not  to  lose  any  part 
of  that  liberal  education,  on  which  he  had  set  his 
heart,  he  borrowed  money,  and  was  thus  enabled, 
afler  studying  some  time  in  London,  to  go  to  Edin- 
burgh, where  it  was  his  intention  to  graduate  as  a 
Physician.  He  was  furnished  by  various  friends, 
with   letters  of  introduction  to   some   of  the  first 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  11 

fasnilies  in  that  city :  but  only  made  use  of  one  or 
two  of  them,  in  order  that  he  might  not  be  tempted 
to  interrupt  that  plan  of  study  which  he  had  marked 
out  for  himself.  Mr.  McLehose,  to  whom  he  often 
referred  with  gratitude,  received  him  always  at  his 
house  as  one  of  his  family.  Here  he  met  with 
many  congenial  friends,  whose  society  he  much  en- 
joyed, among  whom  was  the  '  Clarinda'  of  Burns, 
Mr.  McLehose's  mother,  a  person  of  great  intelli- 
gence, who,  though  much  advanced  in  years,  re- 
tained all  her  faculties,  and  would  often  relate,  with 
the  utmost  vivacity  and  humour,  the  adventures  of 
her  earlier  years,  together  with  interesting  anecdotes 
of  eminent  characters  with  whom  she  had  come  in 
contact.  But  the  pleasures  which  such  society  and 
kind  hospitality  placed  within  his  reach,  were  en- 
joyed only  as  recreations,  never  being  suffered  to 
divert  his  mind  from  the  one  object  for  which  he 
had  entered  the  university.  So  great  indeed  was 
his  devotion  to  study,  that  it  was  his  constant  habit 
to  read  till  the  clock  struck  three,  before  retiring  to 
rest,  and  yet  he  was  always  in  the  college  by  eight. 

There  is  little'  doubt  that  these  habits,  which  were 
kept  up  more  or  less  through  his  life,  tended  mate- 
rially to  undermine  his  constitution  and  shorten  his 
days. 

After  remaining  three  years  in  Edinburgh,  Mr. 
Gordon  went  to  Hull  on  a  visit,  and  had  secured 
his  place  in  the  coach,  in  order  to  return,  for  the 


12  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

purpose  of  completing  the  necessary  term,  and  ob- 
taining his  diploma.  But  the  day  before  he  was  to 
set  off,  he  met  with  a  medical  friend,  who  strongly 
advised  him  to  delay  taking  his  degree,  and  to  en- 
gage for  a  few  years  as  a  general  practitioner:  his 
youth,  and  very  juvenile  appearance,  being  much  to 
his  disadvantage  as  a  physician. 

Welton,  nine  miles  from  Hull,  was  recommended 
as  possessing  the  attractions  of  a  beautiful  country, 
a  wealthy  neighbourhood,  and  every  advantage  for 
a  young  man  under  his  circumstances.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  suggestion,  he  hired  a  horse,  and 
rode  over  to  view  the  place.  It  was  a  very  fine 
morning  in  May  ;  and  every  object  looked  so  lovely 
and  inviting,  that  he  at  once  resolved  to  reside  there 
at  least  for  a  year,  that  he  might  have  the  opportu- 
nity of  continuing  his  studies,  even  if  he  did  not 
succeed  as  he  expected  in  his  profession.  He  took 
lodgings  that  very  day.  His  gentlemanly  manners 
and  cultivated  mind,  soon  gained  him  the  respect 
of  the  w^hole  neighbourhood. 

In  1826,  he  w^as  married  to  Mary  Anne,  the  se- 
cond daughter  of  James  Lowthrop,  Esq.,  of  Welton 
Hall.  With  a  large  circle  of  friends,  a  lucrative 
practice,  and  such  an  accession  to  his  happiness,  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  comply  wuth  her  wish  to  remain 
at  Welton  for  several  years. 

The  following  "system  of  study,"  dated  August 
1827,  which  was  found    among   his   papers,  wil 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  13 

serve  to  illustrate  the  course  of  reading  which  he 
pursued  at  this  time  : — 


Monday — Natural  Philosophy. 

Tuesday — Chemistry,  Pharmacy,  Mineralogy,  or 

Geology. 
We^lnesday — Zoology,  Anatomy,  Physiology,  or 

Surgery. 
Thursday — Vegetable  Physiology,  Botany,  Mate« 

ria  Medica,  or  Agriculture. 
Friday — Pathology  and  practice  of  Medicine,  oi 

Midwifery. 
Saturday — Languages,  Logic,  Moral  Philosophy, 

Political  Economy,  or  Algebra. 

In  1828,  he  published  a  small  volume  on  the 
practice  of  Surgery,  and  in  1832,  a  "  Critical  In- 
quiry concerning  a  New  Membrane  in  the  Eye." 
He  also  frequently  sent  contributions  to  Loudon's 
Magazine  of  Natural  History,  and  to  various  Medi* 
cal  Journals.  In  1832,  he  was  elected  a  Fellow 
of  the  Linnsean  Society.  In  1838,  he  returned  to 
Edinburgh,  intending  to  remain  there  only  the  one 
term  still  necessary  to  complete  his  course  of  study 
as  a  physician  ;  but  the  opportunity  afforded  him 
of  giving  his  undisturbed  attention  to  those  scienti- 
fic pursuits,  in  which  he  \vas  so  deeply  interested, 
induced  him  to  give  himself,  as  he  used  to  call  it, 
2 


14  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

a  holiday.  He  consequently  remained  there  with 
his  family,  more  than  two  years ;  during  which 
time,  he  seldom  retired  to  rest  until  two  o'clock, 
though  he  was  always  ready  to  resume  his  studies 
at  eight,  and  frequently  attended  an  early  lecture 
before  breakfast,  in  the  botanical  gardens. 

In  1841,  he  took  his  degree  of  M.D.  with  great 
honour,  and  settled  as  a  physician  in  Hull.  Here 
he  devoted  himself  with  ardour  to  the  duties  of  his 
profession,  still  continuing  his  medical  studies  with 
undiminished  zeal.  But  though  surpassed  by  few 
in  the  diligent  and  habitual  investigation  of  all 
branches  of  professional  learning,  and  in  the  candid 
examination  of  the  merits  of  every  new  opinion  and 
discovery,  he  by  no  means  confined  himself  to 
medical  reading.  "  He  intermeddled  with  all  wis- 
dom." He  kept  up  the  studies  of  former  years ; 
and  for  a  long,  time  the  author  enjoyed  the  privilege 
of  reading  classics  with  him  daily,  and  was  always 
struck  with  the  elegance  and  accuracy  of  his  trans- 
lations. With  natural  science,  in  all  its  branches, 
he  was  familiar.  Poetry,  history,  and  oratory, 
were  his  delight  in  his  hours  of  recreation.  No 
topic  of  public  interest  escaped  his  investigation. 
Especially  he  studied  deeply  all  questions  bearing 
on  the  general  welfare  of  the  community,  chief!) 
the  working  classes.  To  the  subjeci  of  Free-trade, 
and  of  the  Currency,  he  devoted  peculiar  attention, 
In   nothing   was   he    superficial;    and    was   hever 


BI06RAPHICAL.  16 

t 

satisfied  with  anything  short  of  the  most  certain 
information,  and  the  clearest  demonstration. 

He  was  soon  known  as  a  public  man ;  was 
elected  a  Councillor  for  the  borough ;  and  in  vari- 
ous political  movements  took  a  prominent  part, 
always  promoting  what  he  thought  to  be  the  cause 
of  popular  progress.  Freedom  in  trade,  education, 
and  religion,  parliamentary  and  financial  reform, 
extension  of  the  suffrage,  peace,  and  other  kindred 
questions,  found  in  him  an  earnest  advocate.  To 
the  cause  of  temperance  he  devoted  much  of  his 
time  and  energies.  He  saw  how  great  were  the 
evils  entailed  on  his  country,  and  especially  on  the 
working  classes,  by  intemperance.  To  this  bane- 
ful source  he  traced  most  of  the  poverty,  wretched- 
ness, disease,  and  crime,  which  prevail  among  us 
tO  such  an  alarming  extent.  His  benevolent  dis- 
position prompted  him  to  do  all  in  his  power  to 
check  this  great  evil.  The  total-abstinence  move- 
ment could  not  escape  his  notice ;  he  studied  it 
with  impartiality,  and  becoming  convinced  of  its 
truth  on  physiological  as  well  as  moral  grounds,  he 
at  once  adopted  and  advocated  it. 

In  1845,  he  was  chosen  the  president  of  the  Hull 
Christian  Temperance  Society.  In  connection 
with  this  association  he  laboured  most  indefatio^a- 
bly  to  promote  the  physical,  intellectual,  and  m.oral 
welfare  of  th'e  working  classes.  He  delivered 
courses  of  lectures    on  various  subjects,  devoting 


16  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

much  time  to  their  preparation ;  but  always  deli- 
vering the  results  of  his  investigations  in  terms  so 
simple,  and  a  style  so  lucid,  that  the  most  unlet- 
tered could  understand  him.  Sciences,  often  the 
most  forbidding,  from  the  difficult  terminology  in 
which  they  are  couched,  when  presented  by  him  to 
an  audience,  lost  all  their  repulsiveness,  and  the 
hearers  w^ere  astonished  to  find,  that  what  they  had 
imagined  to  be  so  utterly  abstruse,  as  to  be  beyond 
their  comprehension,  could  be  made  so  plain  and 
simple.  He  delivered,  during  several  years,  a 
succession  of  temperance  addresses,  in  which  all 
the  stores  of  his  highly  gifted,  and  richly  furnished 
mind,  w^ere  laid  under  tribute ;  and  illustrations 
were  drawm  from  every  branch  of  learning,  as  w^ell 
as  from  the  objects  of  nature,  and  the  occurrences 
of  daily  life,  to  give  interest  to  the  theme.  Besides 
these,  he  delivered  courses  of  lectures  on  Physio- 
logy, Botany,  Optics,  and  the  Currency,  with  many 
single  lectures,  of  which  the  following  may  be 
taken  as  a  specimen: — *A  blade  of  grass,' — *A 
drop  of  water,' — *The  bones,' — ^The  muscles,' — 
^The  architecture  of  the  skull,' — 'The  Cholera,' — 
'  Preservation  of  health  and  life  at  sea,' — *  The 
poetry  of  the  Bible,'  &c. 

It  scarcely  needs  to  be  said,  that  these  JectJres 
were  all  delivered  gratuitously.  They  ^^re  de- 
signed for  the  benefit  of  the  working  classes ;  and 
though  for  accuracy,  beauty,  and  solid  value,  they 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  17 

were  fit  for  any  audience,  however  gifted,  yet  Dr. 
Gordon  was  never  ambitious  of  any  other  auditors 
than  the  poor.  It  was  for  them  he  chiefly  laboured, 
under  a  conviction,  that  to  refine  their  tastes,  ana 
instruct  their  minds,  was  a  mode  of  rendering 
them  the  most  solid  and  permanent  benefit.  In 
these  addresses,  he  frequently  expatiated  with  great 
interest,  on  the  illustrations  afforded  in  nature  of  a 
designing  Creator,  and  on  the  evidences  of  his 
power,  wisdom,  and  goodness. 

As  a  speaker,  he  was  distinguished  for  the  clear- 
ness of  his  statements,  the  force  of  his  reasoning, 
the  chasteness  and  vigour  of  his  language,  and  the 
manly  elegance  of  his  delivery.  Every  word  was 
so  aptly  chosen,  that  no  other  could  be  substituted 
for  it  without  injury ;  and  all  his  sentences  fell  har- 
moniously on  the  ear.  An  elegant  humour  often 
pervaded  his  harangues,  which  tended  considerably 
to  enliven  his  audience ;  and  when  he  exposed 
falsehood,  vice,  or  oppression,  which  alone  ruffled 
the  placidity  of  his  temper  and  roused  his  indigna- 
tion, the  withering  keenness  of  his  sarcasm  was 
only  equalled  by  the  crushing  weight  of  his  denun- 
ciation. 

Although,  during  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  he 
was  ijontinually  brought  into  public  notice,  and  per- 
haps took  a  more  active  part  in  all  political  ques>- 
tions,  than  most  of  his  fellow-citizens ;  yet,  as  the 
character  of  this  memoir  is  altogether  religious,  the 
2* 


18  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

author  deems  no  special  reference  to  his  political 
life  to  be  necessary.  The  opinions  of  those  who 
read  this  narrative  may  differ  widely,  respecting  the 
course  which  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  take  ;  and 
the  author  would  deeply  regret,  that  any  word  should 
escape  him,  by  which  the  impression  of  the  religious 
testimony  borne  by  his  beloved  relative,  should  be 
weakened.  He  therefore  feels,  that  any  vindicatior 
of  his  political  life,  and  even  the  expression  of  any 
opinion  on  it,  would  here  be  out  of  place.  He 
merely  wishes  to  insist  on  the  purity  of  Dr.  Gor- 
don's motives,  in  whatever  he  did.  He  believed 
that  the  opinions  he  held  were  not  only  wise,  on  the 
ground  of  expediency,  but  that  they  were  a  carrying 
out  of  the  sublime  morality  and  lofty  principles  of 
the  New  Testament.  He  often  illustrated  his  ad- 
dresses by  quotations  from  the  sacred  volume,  and 
frequently  said,  with  a  glowing  enthusiasm,  that 
"  some  day  the  Bible  would  be  the  directory  of  legis- 
lators, and  that  then  the  principles  he  advocated 
would  be  triumphant."  To  that  incomparable  com- 
pendium of  law,  "  Do  unto  others,  as  ye  would 
they  should  do  unto  you ;"  and  to  the  command — 
"Love  your  enemies,  do  good  to  them  that  hate 
you,"  he  frequently  referred,  as  containing  the  lead- 
ing principles  of  his  political  creed.  Whether  his 
judgment  in  this  matter  is  assented  to  by  the  reader 
or  not,  the  fact  remains,  that  his  political  life  was 
regulated  not  by  any  mean  and  petty  impulse  of 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  19 

faction  and  party,  but  by  a  sacred  reverence  to  the 
highest  of  all  truth  and  to  the  happiness  of  mankind 
at  large. 

Those  who  differed  from  him  most  entirely  in 
sentiment,  were  compelled  to  admire  the  benevo- 
lence of  his  intentions,  the  sincerity  of  his  convic- 
tions, and  his  disinterested  avowal  of  whatever  he 
believed  to  be  truth.  His  benevolence  made  him 
political.  He  thought  he  saw  that  the  lamentable 
condition  of  the  working  classes  of,  this  country, 
was  owing  to  unjust  legislation,  and  on  this  account 
lie  laboured  so  energetically  to  enlighten  the  public 
mind,  and  advance  those  reforms  which  he  judged 
to  be  necessary,  before  any  general  and  permanent 
improvement  would  take  place.  It  was  this  made 
him  so  zealous  an  advocate  of  total  abstinence. 
Though  he  was  abundant  in  his  acts  of  private  be- 
nevolence, yet  he  saw  that  far  more  good  would  be 
done,  by  enabling  the  poor  to  help  themselves,  than 
by  any  acts  of  individual  charity,  and  therefore  he 
laboured  to  elevate  their  condition  intellectually  and 
morally.  In  this  important  work  he  spare'd  no  pains, 
grudged  no  time,  and  shrank  from  no  sacrifice. 
Nicfht  after  nisfht  he  attended  crowded  meetings  of 
the  labouring  classes,  at  which  till  a  late  hour,  he 
toiled  in  imparting  information,  and  cultivated  a 
relish  for  intellectual  enjoyments,  in  preference'  to 
the  degrading  pleasures  of  the  dram  shop  ;  in  in- 
stilling those  ennobling  principles  of  freedom  and 


20  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

independence,  which  might  make  them  industrious, 
prudent  and  self-relying,  and  in  cherishing  that  love 
of  virtue  and  benevolence,  which  might  preserve 
them  from  the  evil  influences  of  vice,  rendering  them 
happy  in  themselves,  and  the  promoters  of  happi- 
ness in  others.  He  often  in  these  addresses  referrec 
to  the  Bible  and  religion  in  respectful  terms  ;  but, 
as  will  be  seen  in  the  latter  part  of  this  narrative, 
his  great  regret  subsequently  was,  that  he  had  not 
distinctly  urged  on  his  numerous  hearers,  the  claims 
of  the  gospel,  and  its  adaptation  to  bless  in  both 
worlds,  all  who  cordially  embrace  it. 

So  uncompromising  w^as  his  love  of  truth,  that  it 
never  occurred  to  him,  to  inquire  with  reference  to 
any  principle  or  movement,  "  is  it  respectable,"  "is 
it  likely  to  succeed,"  or  "  will  it  injure  my  w^orldly 
prospects  ?"  His  sole  desire  was  to  gain  an  answ^er 
to  the  inquiry,  "  Is  it  true."  The  course  he  thought 
it  proper  to  take  in  public  matters,  was  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  his  professional  interests.  He  saw 
the  risk  of  losing,  and  to  a  great  extent  did  lose,  the 
patronage  of  those  who  were  best  able  to  remune- 
rate his  medical  skill.  Early  associations,  pleasant 
friendships,  pecuniary  advantages,  all  of  which 
would  have  led  him  in  a  totally  opposite  direction, 
were  to  him  as  nothing,  in  comparison  wnth  truth. 
He  refused  to  purchase  any  worldly  good,  and  was 
unwilling  to  retain  even  the  approval  of  those,  in 
whose  society  he  delighted,  and  whose  friendship 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  21 

tie  valued,  at  the  cost  of  disguising  his  sentiments, 
and  sacrificing  his  convictions.  Independent  of 
the  opinions  which  might  be  in  favour  with  the 
public,  he  asserted  and  enjoyed  the  right  of  free 
speech,  as  well  as  of  free  thought.  He  felt  with 
Milton,  in  whose  magnificent  prose  writings,  as 
well  as  in  whose  poetry,  he  took  the  greatest  de- 
light, as  holding  intercourse  w^ith  a  congenial 
spirit — ^  give  me  the  liberty  to  know,  to  utter,  to 
argue  freely,  according  to  conscience,  above  all 
liberties.'  He  regarded  it  a  wrong  done  to  society, 
for  any  man  to  conceal  what  he  thought  to  be  true 
and  useful.  He  was  always  w^illing  to  hold  friendly 
intercourse  with  men  of  all  opinions,  and  never 
threw  away  kindness  from  whomsoever  it  might 
proceed :  though  to  obtain  it,  he  w^ould  not  sell  his 
liberty  or  his  conscience.  Often  has  the  author 
heard  him  say,  he  should  feel  himself  indeed  de- 
graded, if  he  occupied  a  position,  however  exalted, 
which  his  judgment  condemned,  and  where  he 
could  not  at  all  times  both  think  w^ith  freedom,  and 
boldly  utter  w^hat  he  thought.  He  was  eminently 
one  who,  to  use  the  words  of  an  eloquent  living 
author,  'Mares  to  take  up  truth,  when  trampled  on 
in  the  streets,  and  to  say  to  all  men,  ^  this  is  a  holy 
and  divine  thing ;  foully  as  it  has  been  treated,  it 
is  worthy  of  worship,  and  /  am  resolved  henceforth 
to  worship  it.'  A  splendid  falsehood  may  be 
riding  by,  in  purple  and  gold,  with  all  the  world 


22  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

prostrate  before  it;  but  when  it  says  to  this  man, 
'  fall  cfown  and  worship  me,  and  say  that  I  am  the 
truth' — he  straightway  answers,  *  I  will  not  wor- 
ship thee,  nor  call  thee  the  truth ;  for  thou  art  a 
lie.'  " 

The  reader  is  again  reminded  that  he  is  not 
asked  to  admit,  that  all  the  opinions  which  Dr. 
Gordon  advocated  were  truth,  but  only  that  they 
were  so  regarded  by  himself.  The  outward  splen- 
dour of  any  principle  had  no  charms  for  him.  Its 
being  trampled  upon  could  not  make  him  ashamed 
of  it.  It  was  at  a  great  and  constant  pecuniary 
sa'crifice  that  he  advocated  the  total-abstinence 
question ;  but  the  loss  thus  entailed  on  him,  and 
the  contempt  with  which  some  affect  to  regard  the 
holders  of  those  principles,  only  made  him  the  more 
earnest  in  their  advocacy. 

Possessing  the  full  confidence  of  the  working- 
classes,  his  denunciations  of  violence,  and  earnest 
advocacy  of  peace,  good  order,  and  obedience  to 
the  laws,  had  such  effect,  that  at  a  recent  period  of 
political  excitement,  no  opportunity  was  given  for 
the  intrusion  of  those  demagogues,  who  went  about 
for  their  own  selfish  ends,  to  excite  their  deluded 
followers  to  acts  of  insubordination. ,  Being  remon- 
strated with,  by  many  of  his  friends,  on  the  impru- 
dence of  attending  certain  meetings  at  which  he 
might  be  identified  with  individuals  of  questionable 
prmciples  and  character,  he  replied — *  If  they  are 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  23 

SO  bad,  the  more  reason  for  us  to  go  among  them. 
Would  you  leave  the  people  to  the  influence  of 
dangerous  men  ?  If,  because  some  are  violent  and 
unprincipled,  you  are  to  abandon  instead  of  going 
among  them  to  improve  them,  what  hope  can  there 
ever  be  of  their  amendment  ?'  Certainly  such  con- 
duct, whatever  else  may  be  thought  of  it,  mani- 
fested, considering  his  position  in  society,  a  manly 
disinterestedness  which  is  seldom  exhibited,  but 
which  all  must  admire. 

In  Dr.  Gordon's  manners,  bearing,  and  language, 
refinement  and  taste  of  the  highest  order  were 
always  evident.  He  could  not  do  a  rude,  a  vulgar, 
or  an  unlovely  thing.  His  sympathies  might  there- 
fore have  been  expected  to  attract  him  to  the  more 
cultivated  classes  of  society.  But  he  thought  that 
to  do  good,  was  far  better  than  mere  self-gratifica- 
tion ;  and  therefore  indifferent  to  the  favours  and 
opinion  of  men  of  his  own  rank,  he  cast  himself  as 
a  moral  reformer  among  the  working  classes.  Yet 
in  the  midst  of  men  in  humbler  grades  of  life,  he 
never  ceased  to  be  the  gentleman.  He  did  not  de- 
scend from  his  own  level,  but  sought  to  raise  others 
up  to  his  Courtesy  and  kindness  pervaded  all  his 
intercourse  with  them ;  yet  he  was  never  familiar, 
and  acting  towards  them  with  respect,  he  was  ever 
treated  respectfully  by  them  in  return.  Haughty 
condescension  may  often  receive  the  stern  rebuke  it 
merits ;  but  Dr.  Gordon  proved  that  it  is  only  ne- 


24  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

cessarj  for  a  man  of  superior  station,  character,  and 
ability,  to  treat  the  humbler  classes  with  genuine 
kindness  and  courtesy,  in  order  to  secure  from 
them  a  hearty  respect  and  love,  which  are  seldom 
found  beneath  the  formalities  of  more  polite  society. 
He  was  in  a  word,  "  The  poor  man's  friend." 
Many  hours  every  day  were  devoted  to  prescribing 
gratuitously  for  crowds  of  the  indigent  who  fre- 
quented his  house,  all  receiving  from  him  the  most 
kind  and  patient  attention.  Numerous  were  the 
cftses  in  which  he  not  only  gave  medical  advice, 
but  relieved  the  pecuniary  w^ants  of  his  poor  pa- 
tients; and  meals  were  constantly  provided  in  his 
kitchen,  to  bd^sent  to  the  abodes  of  want  and  dis- 
ease. In  many  ways  of  which  the  public  knew 
nothing,  it  was  his  delight  to  render  help  to  the 
needy,  and  this,  so  unostentatiously  that  his  left 
hand  knew  not  what  the  right  hand  gave.  Many 
a  heart  breathed  for  him  the  prayer,  w^hich  the 
author  remembers  a  poor  Irishwoman  whom  he  had 
befriended,  offering  on  her  knees  before  him — 
^'  May  the  blessing  of  the  Son  of  God  rest  upon 
ye."  "  When  the  ear  heard  him,  then  it  blessed 
him  ;  when  the  eye  saw  him,  it  gave  witness  unto 
him.  The  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  per- 
ish came  upon  him,  and  he  made  the  widow's 
heart  to  sing  for  joy.  He  was  a  father  to  the  poor, 
and  the  cause  which  he  knew  not,  he  searched 
out."     To  how  great  a  degree  he  gained  the  afFec- 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  25 

tion  of  the  poor,  was  evident  by  the  universal 
anxiety  expressed  by  them,  during  his  illness,  and 
by  the  many  thousands  of  true  mourners  who 
followed  his  remains  to  the  tomb. 

But  it  was  at  home  and  amongst  his  intimate 
friends,  that  the  loveliness  of  such 'a  character  could 
alone  be  fully  appreoiated.  There  his  equable 
temper,  his  unselfish  benevolence,  his  kindness  in 
little  things,  his  constant  endeavour  to  make  all 
around  him  happy,  endeared  him  to  every  heart. 
His  servants  loved  him  as  a  friend,  as  well  as  re- 
spected him  as  a  master.  He  gave  his  orders 
rather  as  if  requesting  a  favour  than  issuing  a  com- 
mand, and  never  suffered  the  least  service  to  be 
rendered  him,  without  a  kind  acknowledgment. 

In  his  company,  conversation  never  flagged. 
There  was  no  subject  in  which  he  did  not  take  in- 
terest, and  few  on  which  he  could  not  throw  light. 
His  pleasantry  and  wit  combined  with  his  affection, 
made  sunshine  and  joy  wherever  he  went. 

His  professional  and  public  engagements  occu- 
pied the  day,  while  his  studies  were  often  continued 
far  into  the  night.  His  pleasures  were  all  of  the 
domestic  kind,  and,  as  a  matter  of  taste,  irrespec- 
tive of  principle,  he  never  frequented  places  of 
Dublic  amusement.  A  family  party,  a  pleasant 
conversation,  or  a  good  author  over  the  fireside, 
with  excursions  for  half  a  day  into  the  country, 
were   his   principal  recreations,  and  frequent  and 

3 


26  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

touching  was  his  remembrance  of  them  during  hi? 
last  illness. 

As  a  father,  all  the  tenderness  of  his  charactei 
was  peculiarly  developed.  His  only  child,  who  was 
born  at  Welton,  in  1828,  was  his  constant  com- 
panion. He  wag*  her  first  instructor.  When  only 
four  years  old,  he  taught  her  the  elements  of  Latin 
and  botany,  in  addition  to  the  usual  subjects  of 
early  tuition.  In  his  walks  with  her  he  sought  to 
communicate  useful  knowledge  respecting  every 
object  which  attracted  her  attention ;  and  to  make 
even  her  writing  lessons  contribute  to  the  furnish- 
ing of  her  mind,  prepared  for  her  a  set  of  copies, 
enunciating  scientific  truths  or  great  moral  princi- 
ples, in  place  of  the  frivolous  sentences  then  gene- 
rally employed  for  such  purposes.  Instead  of 
treating  her,  as  is  too  often  the  case,  as  a  mere 
babe,  to  be  pleased  only  with  unmeaning  nonsense, 
he  made  her  his  associate,  conversing  with  her  on 
subjects  in  which  he  was  himself  interested.  He 
thought  it  a  disgrace,  that  the  education  of  ladies 
should  be  merely  that  of  superficial  accomplish- 
ments, and  that  it  should  be  considered  a  mark  of 
politeness,  to  avoid  all  scientific  and  argumentative 
subjects  in  their  presence.  He  therefore  laboured 
to  expand  his  daughter's  mind,  and  to  furnish  it 
with  solid  instruction.  But  all  this  was  associated 
with  a  tender  affection,  seldom  equalled,  and  never 
surpassed.     As  an  example  of  this,  during  the  two 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  27 

years  of  her  being  at  a  school  in.  the  metropolis,  not 
a  day  passed  in  which  he  did  not  write  to  her, 
geneially  inclosing  with  his  letter,  some  botanical 
specimen,  with  a  few  sentences  of  explanation. 
However  busy  he  might  be,  no  engagement  what- 
ever was  allowed  to  prevent  this  daily  epistle, 
which  was  as  affectionately  prepared  and  dis- 
patched, as  it  was  eagerly  expected  and  fondly 
prized.  On  her  leaving  school,  he  superintended 
her  studies,  reading  Virgil  with  her  daily,  in  con- 
nection with  a  course  of  general  instruction. 

Into  all  the  preparations  for  her  marriage,  he  en- 
tered with  the  liveliest  and  most  tender  interest ;  and 
when  she  left  her  father's  for  her  husband's  roof,  it 
w^as  no  separation  :  for  though  the  houses  were  two, 
the  families  were  but  one.  Never  was  child,  never 
was  father,  more  tenderly  loved.  She  was  with  him 
night  and  day,  during  the  latter  part  of  his  illness, 
one  of  the  most  distressing  circumstances  of  which, 
was  the  protracted  parting  of  hearts  so  closely' ce- 
mented by  an  affection  so  tender  as  theirs.  Of  a 
still  dearer  tie,  nothing  is  said,  because  the  feelings 
connected  with  it  are  of  too  sacred  a  kind  for  the 
veil  to  be  uplifted.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  was 
everything  to  render  this  world  a  dreary  waste  with- 
out him. 

It  was  .in  the  spring  of  1848,  that  the  first  symp- 
toms of  disease  made  their  appearance.     He  com 
plained    of    acute    internal    pain,    which    returned 


»0  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

periodically  every  morning,  waking  him  from  Ms 
sleep,  and  continuing  about  half  an  hour.  This  gra- 
dally  increased  in  duration  and  intensity,  though  in 
the  intervals  he  felt  no  uneasiness  whatever.  The  dis- 
order being  internal  remained  to  the  last  so  obscure, 
that  neither  he  nor  his  medical  friends  could  arrive 
at  any  satisfactory  opinion  upon  it. 

As  the  summer  advanced^  he  became  gradually 
emaciated,  and  evidently  weaker.  All  his  profes- 
sional and  public  engagements  were  continued  as 
usual :  but  the  lack  of  the  vigour  which  always 
characterized  him  in  health,  was  a  cause  of  great 
anxiety  to  those  about  him. 

On  the  9th  of  September,  he  went  with  his  family 
to  Harrowgate,  hoping  that  change  of  air  might  be 
advantageous.  While  there,  he  revisited  the  scenes 
of  his  early  life.  On  one  occasion  with  his  wife, 
daughter,  and  her  husband,  he  went  to  Otley,  sur- 
veying the  town  with  gieat  interest,  and  on  return- 
ing, spent  a  few^  hours  at  the  house  of  a  friend, 
w^hom  he  had  not  seen  since  he  had  left  the  neigh- 
bourhood w^hen  a  youth.  On  another  day,  the  same 
party  went  to  Ripon,  and  Fountain's  Abbey,  walk- 
ing over  the  scenes  which  had  been  so  familiar  and 
dear  to  him  in  childhood.  How  vividly  will  the 
writer  ever  remember  his  going  into  the  old  Hall, 
and  pointing  out  the  room  in  wnich  he  first  drew 
his  breath  !  Deeply  was  he  interested  and  affected, 
and  so  were  we  all ;  for  how  could  the  distressing 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  29 

fear  be  excluded,  that  the  great  weakness  and^severe 
pain  he  was  then  experiencing,  might  be  an  inti- 
mation that  he  was  visiting  those  places  for  the  last 
time.  He  frequently  referred  to  this  day,  saying 
how  remarkable  it  was,  that  after  so  many  years'  ab- 
sence, he  should  have  gone  over  the  scenes  of  his 
early  life,  paying  them  a  sort  of  parting  visit. 

At  Harrowgate,  he  delivered  his  last  temperance 
speech.  It  was  a  most  lucid  exposition  of  the  phy- 
siological department  of  the  argument,  and  pro- 
duced a  great  effect  on  the  audience. 

On  the  22d  of  September,  he  returned  to  Hull, 
the  benefit  of  this  excursion  having  been  very 
transitory.  For  a  few  days  there  was  evident 
amendment ;  but  the  emaciation  which  now  became 
distressingly  evident,  had  steadily  progressed,  not- 
withstanding the  hearty  appetite  which  continued 
with  him  to  the  last.  On  the  27th,  in  returning 
from  seeing  a  patient,  in  Lincolnshire,  he  took  cold, 
and  was  suddenly  seized  with  very  alarming  symp- 
toms, so  that  his  speedy  removal  was  apprehended, 
but  he  rallied  sufhciently  to  go  to  Scarborough,  on 
the  6th  of  October,  on  a  visit  to  his  brother-in-law, 
Sir  William  Lowthrop.  Here  he  appeared  at  first 
to  revive,  but  it  was  soon  too  evident  there  was  no 
real  improvement.  He  occasionally  was  so  much 
worse,  that  it  Vv  as  feared  he  might  never  be  able  to 
return.  He,  however,  bore  his  journey  to  Hull,  on 
the  6th  of  November,  very  well :  and  even  resumed, 

3* 


30  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

to  some  extent,  his  professional  engagements.  This 
he  continued  to  do  till  the  close  of  the  year,  often 
spending  two  or  three  hours  together  in  prescribing 
for  his  poor  patients,  when  he  was  suffering  agonies 
of  pain. 

What  he  endured  during  many  months,  none 
could  know  but  himself.  He  spoke  of  his  sensa- 
tions as  indescribably  distressing  ;  and  would  often 
rise  from  bed  in  the  night  and  pace  his  room  in 
agony,  or  endeavour  to  divert  his  attention  from  the 
pain  by  application  to  some  abstruse  study.  Every 
remedy  w^iich  medical  skill  could  suggest  was  tried 
in  vain.  When  his  own  prescriptions  failed,  he  was 
willing  to  try  those  of  others,  but  to  no  effect.  His 
diet  was  frequently  changed,  but  though  he  enjoyed 
his  food,  he  derived  no  nourishment  from  it,  and 
frequently  suffered  extremely  an  hour  or  two  after 
taking  it.  He  attentively  watched,  and  often  com- 
mented on  the  varying,  but  ever  progressive  symp- 
toms of  his  complaint,  and  kept  a  tape  for  measur- 
ing his  arm,  and  noting  its  gradual  emaciation. 

He  was  perfectly  tranquil  and  composed,  and 
seemed  to  have  a  full  conviction  that  he  should 
never  recover.  He  employed  himself,  as  his  strength 
would  allow,  in  arranging  his  papers,  &c.  saying, 
that  he  was  putting  his  house  .in  order.  It  w^as 
natural  for  his  family  and  friends  to  make  the  most 
of  every  favourable  symptom,  anxious  to  put  off,  as 
much  as  possible,  the  conviction  that  his  recover) 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  31 

was  hopeless.  He  often  expressed  his  surprise  that 
they  should  ever  think  him  better,  pointing  to  his 
emaciated  frame,  anc  saying,  with  much  depth  .of 
feeling — '  How  wonderful  you  don't  see!'  The 
audior  can  never  forget  one  evening,  in  the  first 
week  of  January,  w-hen  sitting  with  him  and  Mrs. 
Gordon  over  the  fire,  he  held  up  his  thin  hand,  and 
after  attentively  regarding  it  for  some  minutes, 
spoke  of  it  in  the  most  touching  manner,  addressing 
it  as  the  implement  he  had  so  long  used  in  writing 
prescriptions,  lectures,  and  speeches,  and  which  had 
served  him  so  faithfully,  adding — ^  And  is  it  so  soon 
to  return  to  dust?  It  will  all  be  scattered  and  dis- 
appear. How  wonderful !'  The  same  calmness 
was  manifested  by  him  io  the  very  last.  His 
medical  attendants  often  expressed  their  surprise  at 
his  uniform  composure,  and  feared  not  to  mention 
whatever  w^as  unfavourable  in  his  case,  as  there 
was  no  danger  of  its  producing  the  slightest  change 
in  his  feelings. 

Sunday,  January  7,  1849,  was  his  last  day  down 
stairs.  On  the  following  Saturday,  as  will  be  seen 
in  subsequent  pages,  he  was  very  suddenly  seized, 
to  all  appearance  with  death.  He  in  some  measure 
rallied  for  a  few  days,  but  from  this  time  sank  very 
gradually;  not  suffering  acute  pain,  though  occa- 
sionally troubled  with  vomiting.  His  appetite  re- 
mained, but  his  increasing  emaciation  w^as  daily 
observable.     His    mental    faculties   and   power  of 


% 


BIOGRAPHICAL. 


speech  continued  in  their  full  vigour,  so  that  he 
was  able  to  enjoy  constant  intercourse  with  his  fa- 
mily and  friends.  His  death  took  place  on  WedneS' 
day,  February  7.  The  concluding  chapters  of  this 
Volume  contain  a  narrative  of  what  occurred  in  his 
room,  during  the  last  few  weeks  of  his  life. 

The  author  cannot  but  express  in  this  place,  the 
high  appreciation  in  which  Dr.  Gordon  and  his 
family  held  the  attentions  received  during  his  ill- 
ness, from  various  members  of  the  profession.  Mr. 
Ingham,  an  eminent  surgeon  in  North  Shields,  a 
very  old  and  dear  friend,  though  suffering  extremely 
himself,  rose  from  a  sick  bed  to  visit  him,  but  was 
at  once  convinced  he  could  render  him  no  effectual 
aid.  Dr.  Ayre,  his  chief  medical  friend  and  ad- 
viser in  Hull,  was  most  unremitting  and  kind  in 
his  visits.  Dr.  Gordon  was  also  much  indebted  to 
Dr.  Horner,  Mr.  Twining,  Mr.  Craven,  Mr.  Becket, 
and  other  medical  gentlemen,  whose  kind  sympa- 
thy and  anxiety  on  the  sufferer's  behalf,  will  ever 
be  gratefully  remembered  by  survivors  as  they  were 
thankfully  received  by  himself.  The  following  ar- 
ticle, from  the  pen  of  one  of  these  gentlemen,  which 
appeared  in  several  of  the  provincial  papers,  after 
Dr.  Gordon's  decease,  will  be  read  with  interest  as 
confirmatory  of  the  contents  of  this  chapter: — 

'  Another  great  and  good  man  has  been  taken 
away  from  the  midst  of  us.  The  community  at 
large,  and  Hull  more  especially,  can  ill-afford  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  33 

loss  it  has  just  sustained,  in  the  lamented  removal 
by  death,  of  Dr.  Gordon. 

^  Connected  with  a  profession  distinguished  for 
its  broad  sympathies,  high  intelligence,  and  com- 
prehensive charities,  his  was,  nevertheless,  no 
merely  official  character  ;  his  daily  walk  no  ordi- 
nary routine.  No  professional  training,  however 
severe,  no  educational  advantages,  however  great, 
would  have  necessarily  produced  a  Dr.  William 
Gordon.  Of  him  it  was  peculiarly  true,  that  to 
know  him  w^as  to  love  him  ;  and  yet  (owing,  per- 
haps, to  his  love  of  retirement,  and  of  domestic  en- 
joyment) few  public  men  have  been  at  once  so 
much,  and  yet  so  little,  known  as  the  deceased. 

'  Endowed  by  nature  with  a  power  of  readily  ex- 
pressing himself  in  elegant  and  persuasive  language, 
an<l  at  the  same  time  identified  in  sympathy  ana 
soul,  with  every  thing  w^hich  he  believed  to  be  con- 
ducive to  the  physical  and  moral  advancement  of 
our  common  humanity,  he  was  almost  universally 
known  as  a  public  character,  whose  influence  w^as 
peculiarly  felt  in  the  noble  effort  to  efface  one  of 
the  foulest  stains  from  the  national  character — that 
of  intemperance.  This  effort,  however,  required 
great  moral  courage ;  and,  perhaps,  excited  preju- 
dices which,  otherwise,  had  never  existed  ;  as,  as- 
suredly, it  would  call  forth  in  many  a  breast  a' 
gratitude,  which  shall  endure  when  the  one  shall 


34  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

be  no  longer  required,  and  the  other  have  long  been 
forgotten. 

*  But  it  is  chiefly  as  a  man,  as  a  physician,  and 
a  friend,  that  his  name  will  be  cherished  and 
revered.  The  narrower  circle  of  those  who  during 
his  brief  career,  shared  his  professional  services, 
and  still  more  those  who  enjoyed  his  friendship  and 
the  privilege  of  his  society,  can  alone  fully  know 
what  the  community  has  lost  by  his  removal. 
That  nameless  charm  which  exalts  and  beautifies 
every  other  personal  attribute,  was  pre-eminently 
his.  Naturally  gifted,  frank  in  his  demeanor,  ap- 
proachable, patient,  sympathizing,  intelligent,  he 
was  eminently  qualified  for  the  duties  of  a  physi- 
cian, for  which  a  lengthened  and  diversified  expe- 
rience, a  liberal  education,  and  alas  !  a  too  sedu- 
lous application  to  study,  further  fitted  him.  That 
high  humanity,  w^hich  almost  includes  all  moral 
excellence,  was  conspicuous  in  his  general  deport- 
ment, and  together  w'ith  a  great  openness,  urbanity, 
and  simplicity  of  character,  rendered  him  an  object 
of  affectionate  regard  to  all  who  really  knew^  him, — • 
especially  to  the  poor,  w^ho  have  lost  in  him  a  sin- 
cere and  sympathizing  friend,  and  whose  affec- 
tionate remembrance  will  form  his  best  and  most 
enduring  monument. 

'  His  death  may  be  regarded  as  premature,  and 
yet  if  length  of  life  is  to  be  estimated  by  the  effect- 
ing of  great  moral  results,  by  the  large  alleviatioa 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  3S 

of  social  misery  and  suffering,  by  the  formation  of 
friendships  which  death  is  unable  to  sever,  and 
especially  by  the  learning  and  showing  to  others, 
how  to  leave  it,  full  of  hope  and  love  and  humble 
confidence  in  the  alone  merits  of  our  Redeemer — 
assuredly  his  life  has  not  been  too  brief,  nor  his 
removal  premature.  During  the  whole  of  his 
lengthened  affliction,  the  utmost  patience,  resigna- 
tion, and  consideration  for  those  around  him  were 
conspicuous.  The  writer,  along  doubtless  with 
other  surviving  friends  can  adopt  the  language  of 
Young 

*  I  loved  him  much,  but  now  I  love  him  more, 
Like  birds  whose  beauties  languish  half  concealed, 
Till  mounted  on  their  wing,  their  glowing  plumes 
Expanded,  shine  with  azure,  green,  and  gold. 
How  blessings  brighten  as  they  take  their  flight !' 

'  The  writer  well  remembers  him  as  one  of  the 
early  supporters  of  the  old  Mechanics  Institute,  in 
Charlotte  Street,  where  he  listened  with  great  inte- 
rest to  a  popular  course  of  lectures  on  physiology, 
delivered  by  him.  He  was  known  at  an  early 
period  as  an  author,  having  published  his  'Acade» 
mical  Examinations  on  the  practice  of  Surgery'  in 
1828,  and  again  his  '  Critical  Inquiry  concerning 
a  new  Membrane  of  the  Eye,'  in  1832.  In  addi- 
tion to  these  he  furnished  from  time  to  time  several 
interesting   papers   to  the   medical  journals.     His 


36  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

writings  exhibited  originality  of  thought,  along 
with  elegance  of  style  and  a  mastery  of  the  subject. 

'His  practice  was  characterized  throughout  by  a 
strong  aversion  to  violent  depletion,  and  to  anti- 
phlogistic treatment,  a  feeling  which  is  now  happily 
becoming  almost  universal.  His  conversation  be- 
trayed great  good  sense,  and  was  enlivened  with  a 
playful  and  delicate  humour,  and  exhibited  a  tho- 
rough knowledge  of  men  and  manners,  and  true 
kindness  of  heart.' 

'  The  writer  (who  knew  the  deceased  well),  feels 
that  to  say  more  would  be  perhaps  to  eulogize, 
which  is  alike  unnecessary  and  offensive;  whilst 
justice  to  the  mournful  event,  demands  that  less 
should  not  be  said.' 

A  few  days  after  the  funeral,  at  a  public  meeting 
which  was  very  numerously  attended,  it  was  re- 
solved to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  so  firm  and 
fearless  an  advocate  of  temperance,  peace,  and 
social  progress,  by  erecting  over  his  grave  a 
'People's  Monument;'  towards  which  all  classes 
were  invited  to  contribute  by  a  circular,  from  which 
the  following  sentences  are  an  extract: — *  The 
great  aim  of  Dr.  Gordon's  life  was  to  elevate  the 
taste,  and  reform  the  habits,  of  the  working  classes. 
To  this  high  object,  the  powers  of  his  gifted  mind, 
and  benevolent  heart,  were  most  gloriously  devoted. 
In  these  disinterested  labours  of  love,  he  was 
cheered  with  the  satisfaction  that  he  did  not  labour 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  37 

"n  vain;  for  hundreds  of  homes,  once  the  abodes 
of  intemperance  and  misery,  are  now  blessed  by 
temperance  and  peace.  The  hand  of  death  has 
taken  from  amongst  us  this  distinguished  man;  but 
not  until  he  had  won  for  himself  the  lofty  title  of 
the  "People's  Friend."' 

At  this  meeting  many  interesting  addresses  were 
delivered,  chiefly  by  working  men,  in  which  Dr. 
Gordon  was  spoken  of  in  the  warmest  terms  of  ad- 
miration and  gratitude;  many  interesting  anecdotes, 
previously  unknown  to  his  family,  being  related, 
illustrative  of  the  benevolence  of  his  character,  and 
his  considerate  kindness  to  the  poor.  A  large  surn 
of  money  w^as  speedily  obtained,  chiefly  in  small 
sums,  for  the  ^  People's  Monument;'  a  white  mar- 
ble obelisk,  twenty-five  feet  high,  which  has  been 
erected  over  the  grave  of  one  of  a  class,  who,  though 
they  seldom  obtain  the  admiration  of  their  own 
generation,  and  though  their  names  may  be  un- 
known to  the  next,  are,  if  greatness  is  to  be  esti- 
mated by  goodness  and  usefulness,  far  more  worthy 
of  remembrance,  than  the  majority  of  those  for 
whom  nations  raise  splendid  monuments,  and  whose 
names  are  emblazoned  on  the  pages  of  history. 
The  monument  bears  the  following  inscription: — 
^Erected  by  public  subscription,  to  William  Gor- 
don, M.D.,  F.L.S.— The  People's  Friend.  Ob 
Feb.  7,  1849.  ^t.  47.' 

The  foregoing  chapter,  in  some  degree  antici- 
4 


38  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

pates  the  sequel.  But  this  was  necessary  to  the 
accomplishment  of  the  author's  design  of  furnish- 
ing in  one  place,  a  complete  and  condensed  bio- 
graphy, so  as  not  to  disturb  the  unity  of  the  follow- 
ing chapters,  which  are  solely  devoted  to  Dr.  Gor- 
don's religious  history  and  the  conversations  of  his 
dying  hours. 


CHAPTER    III. 

TWO    CAUSES     OP     ANXIETY — DID      HE     BELIEVB     IN    CHRIST- 
IANITY ?      DID  HE  FEEL  HIS  PERSONAL  NEED  OF  A  SAVIOUR  ! 

Dr.  Gordon  numbered  among  his  dearest  connec- 
tions and  friends,  many  persons  of  earnest  piety, 
who  were  deeply  solicitous  for  his  spiritual  welfare^ 
One  inquiry,  which  some  of  them  revolved  with 
much  anxiety,  was  this — Does  he  acknowledge  the 
Divine  authority  of  Christianity  ?  They  hoped  the 
best,  but  not  without  painful  doubts.  His  medical 
investigations  had  brought  the  question  of  material- 
ism specially  before  his  attention ;  and  he  had  deeply 
studied  all  the  philosophical  objections  of  infidelity. 
It  was  known  that  he  thought  much  on  these  sub- 
jects ;  that  he  was  not  a  man  to  form  his  creed  on 
that  of  others  without  examination;  and  that  he 
would  embrace  no  principle  whatever,  merely  be- 
cause his  friends,  or  society  at  large,  professed  it. 
His  love  of  truth  compelled  him  to  investigate  what- 
ever subject  claimed  his  assent,  and  unhesitatingly 
to  follow  his  convictions,  at  any  cost  of  personal 
feeling.     He  was  enamoured  of  demonstration.    He 


40  CAUSES    OF   ANXIETY. 

must  have  evidencej  clear,  tangible,  irrefragable, 
for  every  thing.  It  was  nothing  to  him  that  an 
opinion  was  sanctioned  by  antiquity,  or  general  con- 
sent, 01  by  the  fashionable  world  ;  it  was  not  suffi- 
cient that  it  was  held  by  the  wise  and  the  good  ;  he 
must  be  convinced  for  himself,  and  the  proof  must 
be  complete. 

Accustomed  to  demonstrative  evidence  in  his 
study  of  physical  science,  it  was  a  reasonable  fear 
that  he  might  seek  the  same  kind  of  satisfaction  in 
his  investigations  of  moral  subjects,  and  that  sceptic- 
ism might  result  from  the  disappointment  which 
must  ensue.  In  the  demand  often  made  for  demon- 
stration, it  is  apt  to  be  forgotten,  that  there  is  no 
single  action  of  life  which  is  not  performed  merely 
on  a  balance  of  probabilities.  No  verdict  given  in 
any  court  was  ever  based  on  more  than  this.  From 
the  very  nature  of  the  subject,  the  argument  in  proof 
of  religion  can  be  of  no  other  kind.  Although  that 
argument  may  be  felt  to  possess  a  moral  certainty, 
the  balance  of  probabilities  being  so  overwhelming- 
that  the  contrary  hypothesis  would  be  absurd ;  yet 
it  must  be  admitted,  as  it  was  to  be  expected  in  the 
case  of  any  revelation  from  God,  that  difficulties 
will  occur  to  every  thoughtful  student,  which,  after 
all  his  efforts,  he  must  confess  himself  impotent  to 
solve,  and  mysteries  which  no  power  of  human  rea- 
son can  enable  him  to  fathom.  It  was  feared  that 
these  difficulties  might  be  effectual  obstacles  to  Dy. 


CAUSES   OF   ANXIETY.  41 

Oordon's  reception  of  the  gospel.  He  might  be  so 
determined  to  clear  up  every  point  as  he  went  along, 
as  to  be  detained  for  ever,  on  the  threshold  of  the 
temple,  and  thus  never  enter  the  sanctuary  itself— 
one  glance  at  the  inner  splendours  of  which,  would 
at  once  silence  every  objection,  and  prostrate  the 
spirit  in  adoring  homage  to  the  truth. 

In  the  course  of  his  investigations,  he  frequently 
asked  questions  for  the  purpose  of  eliciting  informa- 
tion, which  engendered  suspicions  that  he  was  not 
a  believer  in  Christianity.  There  are  many  persons 
who,  though  secretly  infidels,  from  motives  of  policy 
scrupulously  disguise  their  belief  under  a  profession 
of  religion.  Carefully  avoiding  any  remark  w^hich 
might  generate  suspicion,  they  are  often  loud  in 
their  condemnation  of  those  who  give  utterance  to 
a  doubt.  But  Dr.  Gordon,  being  an  earnest  disci- 
ple of  truth,  and  fearless  of  the  opinions  of  men, 
exposed  himself  to  injurious  reflections  by  the  very 
candour  of  his  inquiries,  and  the  frank  confession 
of  his  difficulties. 

It  is  a  fine  remark  of  Milton's,  '  a  man  may  be 
a  heretic  in  the  truth  ;  and  if  he  believe  things  only 
because  his  pastor  says  so,  or  the  assembly  so  de- 
termines, without  knowing  other  reason,  though 
his  belief  be  true,  yet  the  very  truth  he  holds  be- 
comes his  heresy.'*      There  are  multitudes  of  such 

~  *Areopagitica. 
4* 


42  CAUSES   OF   ANXIETT. 

heretics  in  the  world.  They  pass  as  genuine  be- 
lievers. But  it  is  their  very  unbelief  which  pre- 
serves them  from  suspicion.  Whatever  may  be  the 
creed  of  their  lips,  their  minds  are  torpid.  Reli- 
gion, for  them,  possesses  no  interest,  and  therefore 
prompts  to  no  inquiries.  "  They  are  not  in  trouble 
as  other  men,  neither  are  they  plagued  like  other 
men."  They  have  no  doubts,  because  they  have 
no  convictions.  But  earnest  faith  stirs  up  many  a 
secret  foe,  and  provokes  many  a  fierce  assault. 
Few  have  attained  to  the  highest  order  of  belief, 
who  have  not  first  struggled  wnth  difficulties.  Those 
who  have  eventually  doubted  least,  have  generally 
be.  n  those  who  have  at  some  time  doubted  most. 
True  spiritual  life  produces  mental  conflicts,  by 
which,  in  the  end,  it  is  strengthened  and  matured: 
but  w^hich,  while  they  continue,  sometimes  expose 
the  combatant  to  the  charge  of  scepticism. 

Thus,  the  genuine  believer,  or  one  fighting  his 
way  to  belief,  has  often  more  of  the  semblance  of 
infidelity,  than  the  infidel  himself.  He  is  in  earnest, 
and  anxious  on  the  subject  of  religion.  He  feels 
its  infinite  importance.  He  desires  to  be  fully  con- 
vinced of  its  truth.  This  gives  weight  in  his  esti- 
mation to  all  objections  against  it.  •  He  iongs  to 
have  them  cleared  up.  He  often  talks  about  them, 
and  perhaps  puts  them  forward  with  such  strength 
and  earnestness,  as  to  appear  to  be  defending 
them,  when  in  fact,  his  object  is  not  to  convince 


CAUSES    OF   ANXIETY.  43 

but  to  be  convinced,  by  eliciting  a  satisfactory  so- 
lution of  his  own  doubts.  This  was  the  case  with 
Dr.  Gordon.  His  efforts  to  arrive  at  a  full  and  in- 
telligent conviction  of  truths,  an  unquestioning  and 
heartless  assent  to  which,  satisfies  too  many,  brought 
on  him  the  imputation  of  scepticism.  In  all  socie- 
ties there  is  too  much  intolerance  of  opinion.  Re- 
ligious circles  are  not  free  from  the  general  failing 
Those  who  have  few  or  no  doubts  themselves,  are 
not  always  either  the  deepest  thinkers  or  the  sound- 
est believers,  but  are  generally  the  most  impatient 
of  doubts  in  others.  And  men  are  never  wanting^ 
who  are  ready  to  magnify  and  circulate  any  report 
which  is  disadvantageous  to  those  who  are  eminent 
for  their  talents  or  position.  Thus  it  became  a 
somewhat  general  impression  in  certain  quarters, 
that  Dr.  Gordon  was  not  a  believer  in  divine  revela- 
tion. 

But  this  was  not  the  anxiety  of  those  who  knew 
and  loved  him  best.  The  marked  preference  he 
always  showed  for  the  society  of  religious  persons, 
where  intelligence,  candour,  and  courtesy,  w^ere 
combined  with  piety ; — the  respect  he  invariably 
manifested  to  the  ordinances  of  religion  ; — the  teems 
of  reverence  in  w^hich  he  spoke  of  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures ; — the  admiration  he  often  expressed  of  the 
benevolent  tendencies  of  Christianity,  and  the  sub- 
lime precepts  of  its  author ; — together  with  his 
habitual  frame  of  mind  and  manner  of  life,  were 


44  CAUSES    OF   ANXIETY. 

sufficient  evidence  how  mistaken  were  the  •  opinions 
entertained  of  him,  by  those  who  had  not  the  same 
opportunities  of  forming  so  correct  a  judgment  as 
his  nearest  relatives.  For  his  own  part,  the  WTiter 
can  truly  say,  that  during  nearly  seven  years  in 
which  he  was  his  constant  companion,  he  never 
heard  a  syllable  from  his  lips  which  was  inconsis- 
tent not  merely  with  firm  belief  in,  but  with  devout 
respect  for  Christianity. 

The  fear  of  those  most  closely  connected  with 
him  was,  that  he  did  not  understand  and  experience 
the  true  spirit  of  evangelical  religion, — self-renun- 
ciation, and  sole  dependence  upon  Christ.  And 
there  was  ground  for  this  anxiety.  The  more  out- 
wardly wicked  a  man  is,  the  easier  is  it  to  convince 
him  of  his  need  of  a  Saviour:  although  he  may  at 
the  same  time  be  quite  unwilling  to  abandon  his 
wickedness.  And  in  proportion  as  a  character  ap- 
pears faultless,  is  the  difficulty  of  assenting  to  the 
humbling  doctrines  of  the  cross.  Gross  offences 
against  morality  are  too  obvious  to  leave  any  doubt 
of  guilt.  But  the  iiiward  corruption  of  the  heart, 
as  beheld  by  an  Omniscient  God,  and  the  defecti- 
bility  of  motive  accompanying  actions  the  most 
praiseworthy  in  the  estimation  of  men,  are  not  so 
easily  recognized.  The  self-complacency  and 
pride  natural  to  us,  °asily  persuade  us  that  we  are 
actually  as  faultless  as  our  friends  and  neighbours 
give  us  credit  for  being .  and  thus,  unconscious  of 


CAUSES    OF   ANXIETY.  45 

the  "  plague  of  our  own  heart,"  we  are  unable  to 
appreciate,  and  have  no  disposition  to  seek  the  aid 
of  the  great  Physician  of  souls. 

There  is  a  danger  of  estimating  our  obligations 
to  our  Creator,  by  the  same  standard  to  which  we 
appeal  before  the  tribunal  of  our  fellow-men.  We 
are  apt  to  forget  that  in  the  former  case  we  have 
to  do  with  the  infinitely  perfect  Jehovah,  in  the 
latter,  with  judges  who  are  fallible  like  ourselves. 
We  forget  too,  that  man  can  only  take  cognizance 
of  the  outward  act,  while  God  "searches  the  heart," 
and  "  desireth  truth  in  the  inward  parts."  Above 
all,  we  do  not  sufficiently  consider,  that  however 
faultless  our  conduct  may  be  towards  our  fellow- 
creatures,  there  is  a  duty  paramount  to  all  others, 
which  we  owe  to  our  Creator :  "  Thou  shalt  love 
tlie  Lord  thy  God,  with  all  thy  heart,  and  soul,  and 
strength ;  this  is  the  first  and  great  command- 
ment." 

All  other  obligations  are  subordinate  to  this. 
Failure  here  is  the  grand,  condemning,  capital 
offence  ;  in  extenuation  of  which,  it  is  of  no  pur- 
pose to  plead  innocence  of  minor  misdemeanors 
And  this  is  the  great  sin  of  the  human  race.  "  The 
God  in  w^hose  hands  our  breath  is,  we  have  not 
magnified," — "  God  is  not  in  all  our  thoughts," 
though  "  in  Him  we  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being."  This  poison  at  the  fountain,  taints  all  the 
streams  of  conduct.     This  disease  at  the  heart,  en- 


46  CAUSES    OF   ANXIETY. 

feebles  and  corrupts  the  whole  frame.  It  was  to 
atone  for,  and  remedy  this  evil,  that  the  Son  of 
God  became  incarnate,  and  suffered  on  the  cross. 
Through  his  atoning  sacrifice  we  obtain  forgive- 
ness ;  and  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  is  imparted  to 
renew  and  sanctify  our  nature.  But  so  long  as  we 
are  unconscious  of  our  ruined  condition,  there  will 
DC  no  personal  application  by  faith,  for  the  salva- 
tion which  is  offered  to  us  in  the  gospel. 

This  faith,  which  works  by  love  and  purifies  the 
heart,  will  be  exhibited  in  the  appropriate  fruits  of 
righteousness.  Love  to.  God  is  the  effect  of  be- 
lieving in  Christ,  and  the  producing  cause  of  love 
to  man.  "  The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  long-^ 
suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  meekness,  tempe- 
rance." But  natural  disposition  may  produce 
much  that  resembles  these  fruits  in  outward  fea- 
ture. Though  the  motives  prompting  them  greatly 
differ,  the  actions  themselves  may  be  similar.  God 
may  be  as  much  out  of  the  thoughts  in  an  amiable, 
as  in  a  malevolent  action;  yet  there  is  much  greater 
difficulty  in  being  convinced  that  the  motive  is  de- 
fective. The  product  of  a  benevolent  disposition 
being  often  externally  the  same  as  that  of  faith,  the 
inference  is  likely  to  suggest  itself,  that  the  produ- 
cing cause  is  the  same,  or  equally  good.  And  thus 
there  is  a  peculiar  obstacle  in  the  way  of  some  men 
acknowledging  their  unworthiness  in  the  sight  of 
God,  which  those  do  not  encounter  whose  lives  are 


CAUSES    OF   ANXIETY.  47 

glaringly  at  variance  with  His  laws,  although  in 
other  ways  this  disadvantage  is  more  than  counter 
balanced. 

In  the  case  of  Dr.  Gordon,  there  was  every  thing 
to  make  those  who  were  anxious  for  his  spiritual 
welfare,  feel  that  no  ordinary  difficulty  was  to  be 
overcome.  It  was  feared  that  the  very  excellence 
of  his  character  might  be  a  hindrance  to  his  simple 
reliance  on  Christ.  Speaking  after  the  manner  of 
men,  he  was  perfect.  Distinguished  by  an  undevi- 
ating  course  of  uprightness,  benevolence,  self-sac- 
rifice, scrupulous  honour,  and  ardent  love  of  truth, 
such  as  are  exhibited  by  few  who  have  made  the 
highest  attainments  in  piety  ;  often  amazed  at  the 
spirit  and  conduct  of  Christian  professors,  who 
could  say  and  do  things,  which  he  without  such 
profession,  loathed;  having  no  relish  for  the  plea- 
sures of  the  w^orld,  and  finding  his  happiness  only 
in  his  studies,  in  his  benevolent  enterprises,  and  in 
the  midst  of  his  family,  whom  he  gladdened  by  the 
streams  of  cheerful  and  tender  affection,  which  ever 
flowed  from  his  gushing  heart; — was  it  not  to  be 
feared  that  he  might  find  it  difficult  to  acknowledge 
himself  worthless  in  the  sight  of  God,  to  come  as  a 
little  child  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  to  be  taught,  and  as 
a  hell-deserving  sinner,  to  rely  solely  on  his  atoning 
sacrifice  ? 

These  two  anxieties  were  more  than  removed. 
Most  explicit  was  his  avowal  to  the  many  persons 


48  CAUSES   OF   ANXIETY. 

who  visited  him  during  his  illness,  that  the  Scrip- 
tures must  have  had  a  God  of  infinite  wisdom  and 
love  for  their  author ;  most  full  and  repeated  his 
confession  of  reliance,  not  on  his  ow^n  righteousness, 
which  he  saw  to  be  only  filthy  rags,  but  on  the 
merits  of  a  crucified  Saviour.  Abjuring  the  pride 
of  human  reasoning,  he  came  as  a  babe  to  Christ 
for  instruction;  earnestly  seeking,  and  happily  ex- 
periencing the  illuminating  and  sanctifying  energies 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  casting  the  burden  of  his 
sins  on  Jesus,  in  compliance  with  his  gracious  invi- 
tation— "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labour,  and  are 
heavy  laden" — he  rejoiced  in  the  fulfilment  of  the 
promise,  "  I  will  give  you  rest." 


CHAPTER    IV, 

HOPEFUL    INDICATIONS,    AND    ILLNESS. 

Although  it  was  not  till  the  last  few  weeks  of  his 
life,  that  Dr.  Gordon  spoke  of  what  was  passing 
within  his  own  breast,  on  the  subject  of  religion,  it 
would  be  a  very  erroneous  inference  that  his  was  a 
sudden  and  death-bed  conversion.  He  told  the 
writer,  that  from  a  child,  he  not  merely  admitted  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  but  loved  and  honoured  it; 
and  ever  felt  convinced,  that  the  sincere  Christian 
was  the  only  truly  happy  man.  But  he  spent  many 
years  in  anxious  investigation  of  infidel  objections, 
and  laboured  by  human  reason,  to  arrive  at  a  full 
understanding  of  the  mysteries  of  the  faith.  His 
mind  was  often  unsettled  and  disturbed  on  these 
important  subjects  ;  and  even  when  his  convictions 
became  more  established,  he  was  for  many  years 
a  stranger  to  that  great  change  which  takes  place 
in  the  heart  of  every  true  believer,  and  of  which 
Jesus  said,  '"Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  can- 
not see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

It  was  by  a  very  gradual  process,  that  light  broke 
ii)  upon  his  mind.     A  considerable  change  in  his 
5  4^J 


50  HOPEFUL    INDICATIONS, 

views  had  taken  place,  previous  to  his  attendance 
on  the  author's  ministry  in  1842;  else,  to  use  his 
own  words,  '  I  should  not  have  felt  such  pleasure  in 
listening  to  his  sermons.'  In  the  whole  Church, 
there  was  not  a  more  attentive  hearer  ;  and  he  often 
expressed  the  greatest  satisfaction  at  the  discourse, 
when  the  insufficiency  of  human  virtues,  and  the 
absolute  necessity  of  a  change  of  heart  and  faith  in 
Christ,  were  the  most  plainly  enforced.  He  always 
loved  the  society  of  those  Christians  whom  he  be- 
lieved to  be  sincere;  though  the  inconsistencies  of 
many  professors,  and  the  indelicate,  obstrusive,  and 
ostentatious  manner  of  some  in  speaking  about  re- 
ligion, frequently  disgusted  him.  He  always  spoke 
in  the  highest  terms  of  the  literary  beauties  and  ele- 
vated sentiments  of  the  Bible,  which  he  often  re- 
ferred to  as  containing  the  sanctions  of  his  public 
conduct.  On  several  occasions  he  took  the  sacred 
volume  to  meetings  ol  working  men,  whom  he  ad- 
dressed on  the  splendour  of  its  compositions ;  and 
often  in  his  conversation  manifested  his  familiarity 
with  its  contents.  In  the  chaunting  of  its  sublime 
poetry,  and  the  singing  of  hymns  at  the  fire-side, 
he  took  the  greatest  delight.  He  was  frequently 
alone  in  his  private  room,  when  there  is-  little  doubt 
he  w^as  occupied  in  devotion  and  the  reading  of  the 
Scriptures,  though  he  took  the  most  scrupulous  and 
successful  pains  to  conceal  the  nature  of  his  engage- 
ment.    When  he  prayed,  he  truly  "  went  into  his 


AND    ILLNESS.  51 

closet  and  shut  the  door,  and  prayed  to  his  Father 
who  is  in  secret."  So  great  was  his  aversion  to 
anything  bordering  on  the  display  of  personal  reli- 
gion, that  he  never  uttered  a  syllable  to  indicate  what 
was  passing  withir^  his  own  breast. 

There  was  no  precise  period  to  which  Dr.  Gor- 
don was  able  to  refer,  as  the  time  when  he  first 
became,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  term,  a  Christian. 
Although,  previous  to  his  illness,  he  had  been  a 
'disciple  secretly,'  yet  that  affliction  was  undoubt- 
edly instrumental  in  nourishing  and  developing  the 
spiritual  life,  which  had  till  then  existed  in  merely 
an  embryo  state.  And  it  was  only  at  the  latter 
period  of  the  disorder  that  he  experienced  the  ex- 
traordinary elevation  of  mind,  and  uninterrupted 
peace  and  joy,  which  the  following  narrative  de- 
tails. 

Few  have  been  more  favoured  than  the  subject 
of  this  memoir,  with  friends  to  whom  the  words  of 
the  Apostle  James  are  applicable:  "The  effectual 
fervent  prayer  of  the  righteous  man  availeth  much." 
For  many  years  there  w^as  not  a  day  in  which  he 
was  not  made  the  special  subject  of  earnest  suppli- 
cation at  the  throne  of  grace,  by  many,  who,  from 
a  proper  consideration  of  his  well-known  feelings, 
never  obtruded  on  him  the  question  of  personal 
religion.  It  was  natural,  that  as  they  saw  him 
gradually  declining  under  the  ravages  of  disease, 
their  anxiety  to  ascertain  what  was  tlie   state  of 


52  HOPEFUL    INDICATIONS, 

his  mind  on  the  all-important  subject,  would  in- 
crease. It  was  felt  that  to  interrogate  him  in  refe- 
rence to  it  would  elicit  no  information,  but  very 
probably  might  seal  his  lips  for  the  future.  He 
said,  on  one  occasion,  to  a  beloved  and  anxious 
relative — ^I  cannot  understand  the  religion  which 
friends  extort  from  people  when  they  are  dying, 
urging  them  to  say,  "I  believe;"  and  thinking  it 
sufficient  if  they  can  be  induced  to  declare  they 
have  faith  in  Christ.'  It  was  evident  from  such 
observations,  that  it  would  be  injudicious  to  attempt 
to  elicit  any  thing  from  him  on  the  subject  by  direct 
inquiry.  On  this  account,  spontaneous  remarks 
were  the  more  eagerly  watched  for,  and  the  more 
carefully  cherished. 

It  was  manifest  for  many  months  before  his  end, 
that  he  had  no  fears.  Often,  when  the  symptoms 
became  suddenly  more  alarming,  he  would  say, 
*  Remember,  Fm  very  happy;  I've  no  fear  of 
death.' 

A  few  words  which  escaped  from  him  at  Scarbro' 
in  the  autumn,  were  fondly  stored  in  the  grateful 
memory  of  her  to  whom  they  were  spoken.  He 
said,  *I'm  very  ill,  but  not  afraid  to  die.'  His 
wife  having  quoted  the  verse — "  The  sting  of  death 
is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law:  but  thanks 
be  to  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory,  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ;"  he  responded  with  emphasis: 
'And  he  has  given  7ne  the  victory.     My  views  on 


AND    ILLNESS.  53 

these  subjects  have  been  changed  for  many  years, 
though  I  do  not  talk  about  it.'  The  account  of  the 
brazen  serpent  being  referred  to,  as  illustrative  of 
faith  in  Christ,  he  said — ^Pve  had  my  eye  on  that 
brazen  serpent  a  long  time.'  His  brother-in-law, 
Sir  William  Lowthrop,  at  whose  house  he  was  stay- 
ing, introduced  to  his  notice  the  excellent  little 
work  published  by  the  Religious  Tract  Society, 
entitled,  'The  Philosophy  of  Salvation,'  to  large 
portions  of  which,  he  listened  with  great  attention, 
frequently  expressing  his  admiration  of  the  argu- 
ment. 

After  his  return  to  Hull,  he  made  the  most  mi- 
nute and  considerate  arrangements  with  reference 
to  his  decease,  which  he  always  anticipated  as  the 
result  of  his  illness.  While  talking  on  these  sub- 
jects so  unavoidably  painful,  he  would  often  say, 
^Do  not  grieve;  I  feel  so  happy.  It  relieves  my 
mind  to  talk  on  what  so  constantly  occupies  it.' 
Still  he  volunteered  no  further  statement  respecting 
the  foundation  of  his  hope  ;  and  as  his  friends  had 
always  endeavoured  in  the  most  effectual  way,  to 
manifest  to  him  their  own  religious  convictions, 
and  their  anxiety  respecting  himself,  consideration 
of  his  well-known  feelings,  made  them  abstain  from 
interrogatories  which  their  solicitude  might  other- 
wise have  prompted.  His  marvellous  patience  in 
suffering,  and  composure  in  the  prospect  of  death, 
with  his  blameless  life,  and  the  few  remarks  he  had 
5* 


54 

made,  encouraged  them  to  hope  the  best,  though 
they  were  very  desirous  of  some  additional  assur- 
ance. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  he  purchased  a  pair 
of  thick  '  over-alls,'  as  much  for  the  purpose  of 
concealing  his  extreme  emaciation  from  his  friends, 
as  for  additional  warmth.  A  faithful  attendant, 
entering  the  room  as  he  was  drawing  them  on,  re- 
marked, '  They'll  think  you're  going  a  journey. 
Sir !'  He  replied,  ^  Yes,  I  am  !  and  a  long  journey; 
but  it  is  the  happiest  journey  I  ever  took.  It's  a 
wonder  to  myself  that  I  have  no  wish  for  this 
world.  It's  all  very  delightful,  but  I  have  no  wish 
for  it.'  On  another  occasion,  some  weeks  before 
he  was  confined  to  his  bed,  he  said,  *  Vm  so 
happy!  Indeed  these  two  last  days  I've  had  such 
delight  in  the  prospect  of  Eternity,  that  I've  had  to 
put  it  aside.     It  is  almost  more  than  I  can  bear.' 

It  having  been  remarked  to  him  one  evening  that 
he  had  been  particularly  well  on  that  day,  he  said, 
'  Yes,  and  I  dare  say  you  would  not  think  it,  but  I 
have  been  enjoying  the  thought  of  my  long  journey, 
it  has  never  been  out  of  my  thoughts.'  This  was 
the  more  remarkable,  as  he  had  been  exerting 
himself  to  see  several  patients,  entering  fully  into 
their  cases,  and  receiving  visits  from  various  friends, 
with  whom  he  had  conversed,  with  his  usual  ani- 
mation, on  the  general  topics  of  the  day.  It  might 
have  been  inferred  from  his  manner,  that  he  had 


AND    ILLNESS.  55 

quite  forgotten  his  illness,  so  much  did  his  deport- 
ment and  conversation  resemble  those  of  a  man  in 
perfect  health,  and  in  reasonable  expectation  of  a 
long  life. 

During  the  second  week  in  January,  the  first  in 
which  he  was  confined  to  his  bed,  his  brother-in- 
law,  tlie  Rev.  Edmund  Russell,  Incumbent  of  St. 
Mary's,  Pomfret,  had  several  interesting  conversa- 
tions with  him,  although  he  found  Dr.  Gordon  still 
very  reserved  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Of  these 
interviews,  Mr.  Russell  says,  in  a  letter  to  the 
author,  '  His  words  to  me  were  very  few,  but  full 
of  affection,  and  always  betokened  a  deep  and  in- 
creasing interest  in  the  solemn  truths  of  the  gospel. 
Speaking  of  materialism,  he  said,  '  I  have  studied 
the  subject  deeply ;  indeed  I  have  read  all  the 
celebrated  writings  of  Deists,  and  Atheists,  and  I 
would  advise  others  to  do  the  same.'  I  remarked, 
that  I  durst  neither  follow  nor  give  such  advice. 
Though  as  a  minister,  I  might,  if  occasion  required, 
take  up  such  works  as  a  matter  of  duty,  yet  as  a 
general  rule,  I  thought  it  neither  safe  nor  wise,  for 
any  of  us  to  try  how  much  poison  our  constitution 
could  bear.  He  replied,  'Yes,  there  i^-a^  a  time 
when  I  was  beguiled  by  their  sophistry.  Then,  I 
confess,  some  serious  doubts  arose  in  my  mind  ; 
but  they  did  not  last  long,  and  I  have  never  been 
troubled  with  them  since.  Thank  God,  I  have  no 
doubts  or  fears  now.     I  am  not  afraid  to  die.'    He 


56  HOPEFUL    INDICATIONS, 

also  made  special  reference  to  the  opinions  of 
Lawrence  on  Materialism,  saying  that  reading  his 
arguments  more  fully  convinced  him  than  anything 
else  of  the  unsoundness  of  the  theory.  All  that 
could  be  said  in  favour  of  it,  would  be  advanced, 
and  in  the  most  forcible  manner,  by  so  distinguished 
and  clever  a  man.  If  then  what  even  Lawrence 
could  urge,  was  so  inconclusive,  he  felt  satisfied 
that  the  doctrine  of  Materialism  was  altogether 
false. 

During  this  week,  he  was  for  several  days  more 
than  ordinarily  cheerful.  He  said  one  morning,  ^  I 
have  been  awake  some  hours,  but  I  have  been  so 
happy,  picturing  myself  in  my  coffin,  and  my  fune- 
ral, with  what  you  will  all  say  and  do.'  Though 
he  thus  frequently  spoke  with  calmness  and  pleasui'e 
of  his  approaching  end,  his  friends  w^ere  anxious  to 
hear  him  state  with  equal  explicitness,  that  this 
peace  was  not  caused  by  any  dependence  on  him- 
self. Such  an  assurance,  it  was  the  privilege  of  the 
author  to  receive,  w^hen  visiting  him  as  usual,  early 
in  the  morning  of  Thursday,  January  11.  After 
giving  a  few  directions  respecting  the  future,  the 
following  conversation  took  place: 

Br.  G. — 'I  very  much  wonder  you  all  avoid  the 
subject  of  my  death.' 

N. — '  It  is  too  distressing  to  us.  Besides,  we 
cannot  give  up  all  hope  of  your  recovery.' 

Dr.  G. — '  But  I  do  not  wish  to  avoid  the  subject. 


AND    ILLNESS.  57 

It  is  always  in  my  thoughts.  I  had  a  happy  day 
yesterday.  Perhaps  you  would  not  think  what 
made  it  so.  It  was  the  prospect  of  the  delightful 
journey  I  am  going  to  take.' 

N. — ^  If  we  are  trusting  only  to  Christ,  there  is 
nothing  in  death  which  should  make  us  afraid.  It 
ought  not  to  be  terrible  to  a  Christian.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Of  course  not.' 

N. — ^  It  is  but  going  out  of  one  room  into  an- 
other, to  which  our  friends  are  soon  to  follow  us.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Not  so.  It  is  far  better.  It  is  a  very 
pleasant  journey j^  [\\\\h  great  emphasis.)  After  a 
pause  he  added — ^  I  am  astonished  it  should  ever 
be  spoken  of  as  a  difficult  thing  for  men  to  ac- 
knowledge their  own  unworthiness.  When  I  look 
back  on  my  own  life  and  examine  it,  I  see  it  has 
been  a  life  of  imperfection  and  selfishness.  My 
best  actions  were  unworthy,  and  a  mixture  of  self- 
ish motive  was  in  my  most  benevolent  efforts.' 

Mrs.  G.  referred  to  a  small  volume  containing 
the  dying  testimonies  of  eminent  medical  men,  and 
alluded  to  Dr.  Mason  Good,  who  confessed  that  his 
own  righteousness  was  but  filthy  rags. 

Dr.  G. — *  That  is  my  doctrine.  Not  because 
Mason  Good  said  so,  but  because  the  Bible  tells 
me  so.' 

Addressing  the  author,  he  added — '  Perhaps  you 
and  others  may  have  fancied  I  have  not  thought 


68  HOPEFUL    INDICATIONS, 

much  on  these   subjects,  because  T  have  not  said 
much,  but  I  have  felt  deeply,  and  for  years.' 

Here  was  the  explanation  of  a  character  so  mar- 
vellously excellent,  that  it  would  have  been  most 
difficult  to  account  for  it,  on  any  other  supposition 
than  that  divine  grace  was  in  operation  to  produce 
it.  Without  any  verbal  confession,  there  would 
have  been  sufficient  evidence  to  justify  a  strong 
hope  that  he  was  a  genuine  believer.  But  his  own 
declaration  rendered  this  certain,  and  explained  the 
almost  unparalleled  peace  and  joy  which  distin- 
guished his  latter  end. 

We  cannot  deny,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  may,  and 
sometimes  does,  visit  a  sinner  so  suddenly  and  pow- 
erfully, that  at  once  he  is  emancipated  from  the 
yoke  of  sin,  and  emerging  from  midnight  darkness 
without  any  intervening  twilight,  into  the  full 
blaze  of  noon,  enjoys  a  clearness  and  elevation  of 
sentiment,  together  with  a  confidence  in  God  and  a 
joy  approaching  to  rapture,  which  outstrip  at  once 
the  experience  of  many  an  old  believer.  The  secret 
is  discovered  without  much  labour  in  the  investiga- 
tion. The  summit  of  the  mountain  is  gained  with- 
out undergoing  the  toil  and  pain  of  scaling  its  rug- 
ged sides.  God  thus  teaches  us  what  he  is  able 
to  effect,  and  intends  to  humble  us  by  showing  that 
it  is  only  by  his  grace  that  we  are  what  we  are. 
Yet  this  is  not  the  ordinary  method  in  which  that 
grace  operj^^.    The  process  is  generally  more  slow 


AND    ILLNESS.  59 

and  gradual.  The  spiritual  birth,  as  well  as  the 
physical,  has  its  anxieties  and  sore  travail.  There 
is  often  much  toil  in  the  seeking,  previous  to  the 
much  joy  of  the  finding.  So  it  was  with  Dr.  Gor- 
don. His  was  not  a  life  of  indifference  to  religion, 
closed  by  a  sudden  conversion  and  a  few  days  of 
enthusiastic  excitement.  But  after  many  years  of 
earnest  and  anxious  inquiry,  with  secret  and  con- 
stant prayer  for  the  enlightening  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  together  with  a  conscientious  discharge 
of  every  duty,  he  was  favoured  tow^ards  the  close, 
with  such  a  view  of  the  all-sufficiency  of  Christ  to 
meet  the  sinner's  wants,  and  was  enabled  by  faith 
so  fully  to  rely  on  his  merits  for  acceptance  with 
God,  without  one  doubt  or  misgiving,  that  rising 
above  the  vapourous  atmosphere  through  which  he 
had  long  been  climbing  up  the  craggy  cliffs  of  the 
*hill  difficulty,'  he  basked  in  a  cloudless  sunshine 
at  a  higher  elevation  than  Christians  ordmarily  at- 
tain. The  rare  privileges  he  enjoyed  were  not 
realized  without  a  long  fight  of  afflictions, — the 
crowm  w^as  not  obtained  without  the  conflict, — the 
kingdom  was  not  entered  but  "  through  much  tri- 
bulation." 


CHAPTER    V, 

NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

SUDDEN  ALARM — NIGHT  OF  APPARENT  DEATH — NATURAL  IM- 
PULSE    NOT     RELIGIOUS     PRINCIPLE— MESSAGE     TO     YOUNG 

MEN WAR— COLLECTS CATHOLICITY-^ADRIAN's  ADDRE33 

TO  HIS  SOUL. 

On  Saturday,  January  13,  Dr.  Gordon  seemed  even 
more  cheerful  and  animated  than  usual,  so  that  it 
was  impossible  for  his  friends  not  to  entertain  some 
hopes  of  recovery.  Though  he  remained  in  bed 
during  the  day,  he  was  mentally  as  active  as  ever, 
reading,  receiving  calls,  and  attending  to  a  few 
matters  of  business.  At  four  o'clock,  the  writer  left 
him  conversing  with  his  brother-in-law  on  various 
topics,  with  more  than  ordinary  interest.  But  not 
an  hour  had  elapsed,  before  the  alarming  message 
was  received  that  he  was  dying.  On  hastening  to 
his  bed-side,  the  writer  fi^ared  that  all  was  over. 
The  eyes  were  fixed — and  a  cold  sweat  was  thick 
upon  his  brow.  He  had  risen  to  have  the  bed  made. 
While  seated  in  the  easy-chair  at  the  fire,  with  only 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  61 

his  daughter  in  the  room,  he  suddenly  called  for  as- 
sistance, and  directed  the  attendants  to  place  him 
on  the  bed.  Syncope  of  the  heart  had  ensued, 
from  suddenly  assuming  an  erect  position  in  his  state 
of  weakness.  All  the  appearances  of  death  pre- 
sented themselves-  to  his  distressed  family,  as  they 
hastened  to  his  room.  But  while  they  stood  anx* 
iously  round  him,  animation  gradually  returned. 
How  great  was  the  joy  once  more  to  listen  to  those 
lips,  though  in  the  faintest  whisper,  which  it  was 
feared  were  closed  for  ever  without  one  parting  bene- 
diction !  After  taking  a  little  food,  strength  returned 
sufficiently  to  enable  him  to  speak  with  comfort. 
Then  he  said  to  his  brother-in-law.  Sir  W.  L.,  *If 
consciouness  of  my  own  unw^orthiness,  and  reliance 
on  Christ  alone,  be  a  proper  ground  of  peace,  I 
have  it,  and  have  long  had  it.  But  you  must  not 
think  that  because  I  have  not  talked  of  these  things, 
therefore  I  have  not  thought  of  them.  I  have  long 
been  feeling  my  way  after  the  truth,'  Expecting 
he  was  at  the  point  of  dissolution,  he  seemed  de- 
sirous thus  explicitly  to  assure  us  of  the  foundation 
of  his  hope.  In  confirmation  of  this,  when  the 
beautiful  hymn  was  repeated- — *'. Jesus,  lover  of  my 
soul,"  which  so  fully  expresses  the  sinner's  helpless- 
ness, and  the  Saviour's  grace,  he  responded  with 
much  feeling  *  I  reiterate  all  that.' 

Dreadful  agony  now  came  on,  arising  from  spasm 
of  the  heart.     He  frequently  raised  himself  in  bed, 
6  * 


62  NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

and  lifted  up  his  arms  in  great  distress,  comparing 
his  sensations  to  the  effect  of  ten  thousand  screws 
tearing  him  to  pieces.  As  his  powers  of  patient  en- 
durance were  remarkable,  it  was  evident  that  the 
suffering  which  could  cause  such  indications  of  it 
as  were  witnessed,  must  be  of  the  most  intense  kind. 
He  once  cried  out,  '  0  my  friends,  my  children,  caji 
you  do  nothing  for  me?  0  my  heavenly  Father, 
help  me  !  0  my  dear  Jesus,  take  me  !'  Frequent 
vomiting,  and  the  necessity  of  continually  changing 
his  position,  added  to  his  distress.  But  he  retained 
most  fully  his  self-possession,  frequently  feeling  his 
pulse,  making  remarks  on  its  intermittent  character, 
and  calling  for  remedies  as  the  symptoms  varied  ; 
often  expressing  his  surprise  that  he  continued  so 
long.  His  intellect  throughout  the  night  retained 
all  its  clearness,  his  love  all  its  tenderness,  his  con- 
sideration for  others,  all  its  delicacy.  At  intervals 
he  spoke  to  those  around  him,  recognizing  all  with 
the  tenderest  affection :  and  though  suffering  so 
much,  was  as  attentive  as  ever  to  the  comfort  of 
others.  He  entreated  his  beloved  daughter,  who 
was  very  poorly  from  excessive  excitement  and 
grief,  to  sit  down — and  said  to  his  brother-in-law — 
the  Rev.  William  Knight,  'You've  hard  duty  to- 
morrow, you  had  better  go  home.' 

At  one  time,  from  the  feelings  at  his  heart,  he  con- 
sidered he  was  in  the  act  of  dying,  for  he  said 
earnestly,  '  Come,  kiss  me,  all  of  you,  quick,  quick,' 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  63 

as  tho^g-h  life  might  be  extinct  ere  he  had  given  us 
an  individual  farewell. 

At  intervals  he  made  the  following  remarks  : 
'  Remember  this  pain  is  only  bodily.  I've  no  fear. 
Is  this  because  I've  no  dependence  on  myself,  but 
am  trusting  to  Jesus  alone  ?  If  I  come,  will  he  re- 
ject me  ?  And  will  he  put  those  white  robes  on  me  ? 
This  is  indeed  agony,  torture :  but  what  a  mercy 
that  my  mind  is  at  perfect  peace! — Remember  me 
to  my  friends,  I  hope  they  will  keep  me  in  mind. 
I  wish  to  live  in  your  affections.  I  shall  be  w^ith 
you.     I  shall  be  there  to  meet  you. 

He  frequently  spoke  of  reunion  wdth  those  dear 
to  him,  his  love  to  whom  seemed  to  increase  with 
his  love  to  Christ  and  his  hope  of  heaven.  His 
human  sympathies  were  not  weakened  by  the  strength 
of  his  religious  emotions.  The  very  contrary  was 
the  case.  Being  assured  that  he  would  still  be  with 
us,  constantly  in  our  thoughts,  he  said — '  That's  de- 
lightful. I  wish  to  be  missed.  I  should  be  unhappy 
if  I  thought  it  would  not  be  so.  ^  You  comfort  me  very 
much.'  As  we  stood  round  his  bed,  his  eye  tenderly 
passed  from  one  to  another,  and  he  said — '  This  is 
what  I  have  often  pictured  to  myself,  as  I  have  lain 
awake  at  night.  I've  seen  it  all  just  like  this,  and 
seen  myself  in  my  coffin,  and  you  at  my  funeral.' 

Referring  to  his  past  life,  and  the  ground  of  his 
present  hope,  he  said,  '  My  natural  disposition  led 
me  to  do  many  things  of  a  benevolent  character. 


64  NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

but  this  was  not  love  to  God.  Mere  natural  dispo- 
sition will  not  do.  There  needs  something  better 
for  a  holy  God.  I  am  quite  unworthy,  corrupt,  cor- 
rupt.' 

The  distinction  he  thus  made  between  impulse 
and  principle  is  most  important,  yet  it  is  one  gene- 
rally overlooked.  It  is  the  motive  which  gives  the 
true  quality  to  an  action.  Reason  and  revelation 
combine  to  require  a  universal  reverence  towards 
God.  No  act  should  be  performed  apart  from  the 
homage  due  to  the  Creator.  *'  To  love  Him  with  all 
our  heart,"  is  our  duty  at  all  times,  and  in  all  ac- 
tions. In  the  neglect  of  this  "  first  and  great  com- 
mandment," no  other  can  be  rightly  obeyed,  and 
even  if  it  could,  compliance  with  a  subordinate  law 
can  be  no  excuse  for  the  neglect  of  that  which  is 
paramount  to,  and  inclusive  of  every  other.  A 
deed  otherwise  good  is  essentially  defective  where 
there  is  the  absence  of  this  high  motive.  God  is 
not  honoured  in  it.  Being  forgotten,  he  is  really 
dishonoured.  The  outward  action  may  be  most 
commendable  in  the  eyes  of  society,  yet  may  be 
only  an  additional  evidence  of  the  grand  charge 
against  the  wicked — "  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts." 

Following  the  bent  of  mere  natural  temperament, 
is  not  love  to  God,  when  it  prompts  to  the  relief  of 
the  afflicted,  any  more  than  when  it  leads  to  the  in- 
vestigation of  a  scientific  truth.  The  generous  man 
may  be  as  indifferent  to  his  Maker's  claims,  as  the 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  65 

miser  and  the  churl.  One  is  far  more  useful  to  so- 
ciety, and  more  deserving  of  its  approval  and  love 
than  the  other,  and  he  has  his  reward ;  yet  they 
may  both  be  in  the  same  condemnation  at  the  tribu- 
nal of  the  searcher  of  hearts.  The  ordinary  actions 
of  life  are  criminal,  when  performed  by  one  who  is 
not  "  reconciled  unto  God  by  the  death  of  his  Son." 
Thus  we  are  told  that  *'the  ploughing  of  the  wicked 
is  sin."  The  smallest  act  of  love  is  more  accept- 
able to  Him,  than  the  most  scrupulous  performance 
of  religious  rites,  or  the  most  profuse  benevolence, 
when  destitue  of  this  motive.  "  Incense  is  abomi- 
nation, it  is  iniquity,  even  the  solemn  meeting." 
"  Though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor, 
and  have  not  love,  it  pfofiteth  me  nothing." 

But  alas !  how  many  there  are,  who  in  the  ab- 
sence of  this  love  to  God,  trust  in  the  efficacy  of 
pious  and  benevolent  acts.  How  often  is  a  man's 
general  amiability  alleged  as  a  good  evidence  that 
he  died  the  death  of  the  righteous  !  The  very  in- 
sensibility to  the  claims  of  God,  which  makes  men 
so  ready  to  build  their  hopes  on  their  own  kind 
actions,  is  one  of  the  most  striking  proofs  of  human 
depravity.  But  when  the  Divine  Spirit  enlightens 
the  mind  to  understand  our  obligations,  then  with 
Job  we  "  abhor  ourselves,  and  repent  in  dust  and 
ashes." 

This  was  the  case  with  Dr.  Gordon.  All  who 
knew  him,  can  testify,  that  if  ever  the  hope  of 
6* 


66  NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

eternal  life  could  be  based  on  the  foundation  of  a 
blameless  and  benevolent  life,  it  could  be  so  by 
him.  Yet  most  deeply  was  he  sensible,  that  in  all 
his  actions,  even  the  very  best,  he  was  '  corrupt ! 
corrupt! ' 

Once,  and  only  once,  a  transient  cloud  seemed 
to  pass  over  him.  He  said,  *I  don't  see  Jesus  as 
I  wish.  I  don't  see  him  vividly.'  But  in  less  than 
an  hour,  his  countenance  brightening  with  joy,  he 
said — ^  I  seem  to  see  Jesus  now.  He  is  vividly 
before  me,  waiting  for  me.  He  is  here  in  all  his 
love  and  mercy.' 

The  following  hymn,  which  had  long  been  fami- 
liar to  him,  and  which  at  his  request,  was  often 
sung  in  his  room,  was  repeated — 

There  is  a  happy  land, 

Far,  far  away ; 
Where  saints  in  glory  stand, 

Bright,  bright  as  day. 
Hark  how  they  sweetly  sing". 
Worthy  is  our  Saviour  khig. 
Loud  let  his  praises  ring. 

Praise,  praise  for  aye ! 

Come  to  this  happy  land, 

Come,  come  away ! 
Why  will  ye  doubting  stand. 

Why  thus  delay  1 
On  then,  to  glory  on. 
Be  a  crown  and  kingdom  won, 
Then  bright  above  the  sun. 

We'll  reign  for  aye ! 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  67 

Bright  in  that  happy  land, 

Beams  every  eye ; 
Fed  by  a  Father's  hand, 

Love  cannot  die : 
Oh  we  shall  happy  be, 
When  from  sin  and  sorrow  free, 
Lord,  we  shall  reign  with  thee, 

Blest,  blest  for  aye ! 

He  said — *  I  think  I  see  it  as  it  were  before  me  ! 
I  am  going  to  Jesus.  I  have  embraced  him,  and 
he  will  receive  me.  Our  best  actions  are  filthy 
rags.  There  is  pride  and  selfishness  mixed  up 
with  them  all.  I  have  thought  and  written  and 
done  a  great  deal,  but  its  all  nothing.  I  feel  the 
need  of  a  better  righteousness.  It  is  in  Christ,  and 
so  easily  obtained  !     I  have  found  it !  ' 

The  following  hymn  which  became  a  great 
favourite  with  him,  was  now  repeated. 

Just  as  I  am — without  one  plea 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me. 
And  that  thou  bidd'st  me  come  to  thee — 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

Just  as  I  am — and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot. 
To  thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot — 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am — though  toss'd  about. 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt. 
Fightings  within,  and  fears  without — 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 


6S  NIGHT    OF    DrSTRESS. 

Just  as  I  am — poor,  wretched,  blind  ; 
Sight,  riches,  healing-  of  the  mind, 
Yea,  all  I  need,  in  thee  to  find- — 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come . 

Just  as  I  am— thou  wilt  receive. 

Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  reliere. 

Because  thy  promise  I  believe — 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  conae ! 

Just  as  I  am — thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down ; 
Now,  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone — 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

To  this  he  responded  with  great  feeling, — '  O 
beautiful,  that's  the  way  T  come.' 

To  the  Rev.  William  Knight  who  had  recently 
been  delivering  a  course  of  sermons  to  young  men, 
on  Infidelity,  he  said —  •    ' 

*  There  is  a  great  deal  of  infidelity  in  yonng 
men.  You  have  many  of  them  about  you.  Tell 
them  from  me,  "I  have  read  a  great  many  scep- 
tical books,  ancient  and  modern,  of  all  sorts.  It  is 
all  very  fine,  but  very  fallacious.  They  are  very 
plausible,  but  can  give  no  consolation  in  a  dying 
hour.  The  New  Testament  is  the  book.  We 
must  fall  back  on  that.  We  can  only  obtain  peace 
by  casting  ourselves  on  Jesus;  putting  reasoning 
aside,  and  asking  him  to  cleanse  the  thoughts  of 
our  hearts  by  the  inspiration  of  His  Holy  Spirit."  ' 

He  gave   a  similar  message  to  the  author,  who 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  69 

said — *  Such  a  testimony  and  such  a  scene  as  this, 
will,  I  trust,  make  me  a  better  preacher.'  He  re- 
plied :  '  I  am  glad  of  it.  Preach  with  an  eamest- 
ness.  Tell  the  people  of  the  peace,  and  the  joy, 
and  the  happiness,  and  the  calm.  It's  no  use  rea- 
soning.' After  a  pause,  he  added :  '  Preachers 
should  dwell  on  the  mercies  of  God.  He  is  not  a 
severe  God.  He  is  love.'  Being  asked  if  he  could 
send  a  message  to  two  young  men,  for  whose 
spiritual  welfare  much  anxiety  was  felt,  he  said, 
'  Assure  them  of  my  warm  affection.  Tell  them  to 
seek  Christ,  that  he  may  pardon  their  sins,  change 
their  hearts  and  present  them  to  God.  Tell  them 
that  wealth,  ambition,  and  fame  are  all  vanity. 
Nothing  will  do  but  Christ.' 

He  had  been  for  a  considerable  time  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  conviction,  that  all  warfare  was 
anti-christian  and  inhuman,  and  often  expressed 
his  astonishment  that  any  good  men  could  fight,  as 
the  precepts  of  Christ  seemed  to  him  so  decidedly 
to  condemn  the  practice.  The  subject  now  pre- 
sented itself  to  his  mind  with  peculiar  force.  He 
said,  '  How  wonderful  that  men  can  go  to  war ! 
how  could  I  die  now,  hoping  God  ^i^ould  forgive 
me,  if  I  would  not  forgive  them,  but  sought  to  kill 
them  in  battle!  How  different  is  dying  in  my  cir- 
cumstances, to  death  on  a  battle  field  !' 

Striking  indeed  the  contrast !  In  the  one  case, 
calm,  quietness,  the  presence  of  dear  friends,  the 


70  NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

voice  of  affection,  the  accents  of  prayer  zhd  praise. 
In  the  other,  tumult,  the  roar  of  cannon,  *the 
thunder  of  the  captains,'  the  fury  of  the  combat- 
ants, the  execrations  and  groans  of  the  dying, 
"age,  revenge,  slaughter!  Whatever  may  be  said 
of  the  glory  of  dying  on  the  field  of  battle,  surely 
it  is  an  awful  thing  for  a  man  to  be  hurried  from 
the  excitement  and  din  of  conflict,  mto  the  presence 
of  his  Judge,  fresh  from  the  slaughter  of  his  fellow- 
men,  and  accompanied  perhaps  by  the  souls  of 
those  w^hom  he  has  just  slain !  Are  the  combatants 
Christians?  Then  they  whose  mutual  relation  to 
their  common  Lord,  binds  them  to  a  special  love 
towards  one  another,  appear  before  Him,  their  last 
act  on  earth  having  been  one  of  hostility  even  to 
the  death.  But  if  they  are  not  Christians,  then 
the  blow  which  sent  them  into  eternity,  was  one 
which  for  ever  cut  them  off  from  the  hope  of  sal- 
vation, which  smote  the  soul  as  well  as  the  body, 
and  consigned  it  to  eternal  death.  To  slay  a  Chris- 
tain  is  to  smite  Christ  himself,  to  slay  an  unbe- 
liever is  to  plunge  a  fellow-being  into  hell.  Ter- 
rible alternative !  Yet  all  who  fight,  not  only 
strike  such  a  blow,  but  expose  themselves  to  the 
risk  of  dying  in  the  very  act  of  striking  it.  May 
all  Christians  soon  acknowledge  the  universal  obli- 
gation of  the  command,  "  Love  your  enemies,  and 
do  good  to  them  that  hate  you  !"  Without  wait- 
ing for  others,  may  they  at  least,  by  obeying  Xht 


NIGHT   OF   DISTRESS.  71 

precepts,  fulfil  the  predictions  of  the  sacred  book, 
and  "  beat  their  swords  into  plough-shares  and 
their  spears  into  pruning-hooks,"  thus  manifesting 
that  Christianity  is  indeed,  as  the  angels  heralded 
it,  ^'  Peace  on  earth,  and  good  will  to  men !" 

Dr.  Gordon  continued  to  suffer  severe  pain,  and 
was  in  such  a  state,  that  any  moment  might  be  his 
last.  As  we  stood  round  him,  expecting  his  imme- 
diate dismissal,  he  raised  his  head,  and  with  a 
solemnity  of  manner,  which  will^never  be  forgotten, 
said,  '  I  will  tell  you  a  prayer  I  have  always  been 
fond  of.  I  have  often  used  it.  It  is  short,  and  so 
comprehensive.  "  O  Thou,  to  whom  all  hearts  are 
open,  all  desires  known,  and  from  whom  no  secrets 
are  hid,  cleanse  the  thoughts  of  our  hearts  by  the 
inspiration  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  'that  we  may  per- 
fectly love  thee, '  and  worthily  magnify  thy  holy 
name,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  '  Then, 
turning  to  his  wife,  he  affectionately  said — *  Re- 
member, love,  what  a  favourite  this  was.'  He 
afterwards  marked  for  her  some  collects  in  the 
Common  Prayer-Book,  which  were  particularly  ad- 
mired by  him. 

This  was  an  evidence,  that  he  had  long  felt  the 
need,  and  earnestly  sought  the  renew^ing  influences 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  And  w^ho  that  is  an  earnest 
seeker,  will  ever  be  disappointed,  so  long  as  the 
promise  of  God  assures  us — "If  ye,  being  evil, 
know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children, 


72  NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

how  much  more  shall  your  Father,  who  is  in  Hea- 
ven, give  his  Holy  Spirit  unto  them  that  ask  Him." 
It  also  showed  that  he  could  admire  and  love  the 
good  and  the  true,  wherever  found.  His  opinions 
on  ecclesiastical  subjects  were  very  decided.  He 
stated,  that  they  were  more  confirmed  than  ever  as 
he  drew  nearer  to  his  end.  Yet  it  was  evident, 
that  he  discriminated  between  essential  Christian- 
ity and  its  forms,  and  recognised  the  truth  of  God, 
and  resemblance  to  Christ,  wherever  exhibited. 
This  obviously  ought  to  be  the  temper  of  every 
Christian,  and  to  be  looked  for  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Yet  how  lamentably  does  a  sectarian 
spirit  narrow  the  sympathies  of  multitudes  !  Too 
many  are  apt  to  look  upon  their  own,  as  exclu- 
sively the  Church  of  Christ,  and  to  regard  all  be- 
yond its  pale,  as  wanderers  from  the  true  fold. 
They  avoid  co-operation  with  those  who  are  not 
of  their  party,  and  are  as  blind  to  the  excellences 
of  other  churches  as  to  the  defects  of  their  own. 
But  amongst  all  Christians,  are  to  be  found  evi- 
dences of  the  presence  of  the  great  Head  of  the 
universal  Church,  and  of  the  Comforter,  whom  He 
promised  to  send,  to  abide  with  his  people  for  ever. 
In  proportion  as  we  have  evidence  of  "  the  mind 
that  was  in  Jesus,"  dwelling  in  any  one,  whether 
of  our  own  church  or  not,  we  are  bound  to  recog- 
nize* a  brother  in  Christ,  a  fellow-heir  of  glory. 
Perfect  uniformity  of  sentiment  can  scarcely  be  ex- 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  73 

pected  in  the  present  state.  It  did  not  exist  in  the 
times  of  the  Apostles.  They,  themselves,  tolerated 
and  sanctioned  discordant  judgments.  (Romans 
xiv.)  "  Nevertheless,  vvhereunto  we  have  already 
attained,  let  us  walk  by  the  same  rule,  let  us  mind 
the  same  thing."  How  much  more  united,  happy, 
and  useful,  would  Christians  be,  if,  while  conscien- 
tiously differing  on  minor  points,  and  frankly,  and 
even  earnestly  discussing  those  differences,  (for 
they  should  be  earnest,  wherever  they  think  the 
truth,  and  therefore  the  honour  of  their  Master  is 
concerned,)  they  still  recognized  the  features  of 
their  common  Lord,  under  whatever  garb,  rejoiced 
in  each  other's  zeal,  holiness,  and  success,  and 
thus  proved  that  their  very  controversies  were 
prompted  only  by  love  to  the  truth,  and  anxiety  for 
each  other's  spiritual  good.  Then  an  outward  uni- 
formity would  be  far  from  being  necessary  to  the 
accomplishment  of  the  Saviour's  prayer — "  That 
they  all  may  be  one,  that  the  world  may  know  that 
thou  hast  sent  me." 

Dr.  Gordon  addressed  most  of  those  who  were 
around  him,  individually,  and  bade  them  an  affec- 
tionate farewell.  To  F.  L.,  one  of  his  nephews,  he 
said,  *  Seek  Christ.  Don't  be  carried  away  by  the 
world.  It's  all  vanity.  It  will  not  comfort  you  at 
death.  This  can  only  be  found  by  trusting  in 
Christ.  You  may  forget  this.  I  have  heard  these 
things  often  and  forgotten  them,  but  it  is  all  true.' 
7 


74  NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS. 

To  another  nephew,  T.  S.  R.,  he  said — ^  Good 
bye,  my  dear  boy.  You  learn  Latin.  Let  me  tell 
you  what  Adrian  said  to  his  soul  in  prospect  of 
death.     You  may,  perhaps,  read  it  some  day: 

'  Animula !  vagula,  blandula, 
Hospes  coraesque  corporis, 
Quae  nunc  abibis  in  loca — 
Pallidula,  rigida,  nudula, 
Nee,  ut  soles,  dabis  jocos  1  '  * 

He  then  said,  'I  will  translate  it  for  you  ;  "Kind 
little  wandering  soul,  companion  and  guest  of  my 
body,  into  what  places  art  thou  now^  about  to  de- 
part?" And  then  Adrian  goes  on  to  say,  how- 
dreary  and  forlorn  it  will  be.  0,  my  dear  boy,  re- 
member what  a  much  better  hope  the  gospel  gives 
your  uncle.' 

It  was  very  remarkable,  to  hear  a  man,  suffering 
severe  agony,  and  in  expectation  of  immediate 
death,  so  correctly  quoting,  and  so  beautifully 
translating  a  Latin  author,  for  the  purpose  of  im- 
pressing an  important  truth  on  the  mind  of  a  little 
boy.  In  all  he  said,  he  studied  to  adapt  himself  to 
the  peculiar  cases  of  those  whom  he  addressed. 
And  there  was  such  a  calm  solemnity,  and  so  much 
affection  in  his  manner,  while  all  he  said  was  so 
evidently  uttered  from  the  very  depths  of  his  heart, 

*  The  verses  ascribed  to  Adrian,  ^re  found  in  the  frag- 
ments of  Spartian.  His  life  of  Adrian  is  one  of  the  few  of 
his  memoirs  extant. 


NIGHT    OF    DISTRESS.  75 

that  these  dying  admonitions  can  never  be  forgotten 
by  those  who  were  privileged  to  receive  them. 

With  similar  remarks,  in  the  brief  intervals  of 
pain,  the  night  wore  away,  and  to  the  surprise  of 
every  one,  the  Sabbath  light  dawned  on  our  yet 
living  friend.  It  had  been  throughout  a  season  of 
mingled  anxiety,  grief,  and  joy.  To  witness  suffer- 
ings like  his,  and  be  unable  to  relieve  them,  know- 
ing too  that  very  soon  we  must  part  from  one  so 
beloved,  and  now  more  dear  than  ever, — was  a 
cause  of  the  deepest  distress.  Yet  to  hear  such  de- 
lightful reassurances  of  his  peace,  and  a  clear  con- 
fession of  reliance  on  Christ  as  the  cause  of  it,  from 
lips  which  had  hitherto  been  sealed  on  the  subject : 
to  witness  so  wonderful  an  answer  to  our  prayersj, 
and  to  see  death  entirely  disarmed  of  his  sting,  and 
despoiled  of  his  terrors,  so  filled  every  heart  with 
grateful  joy,  that  it  would  be  difhcult  to  determine 
whether  grief  or  gladness  preponderated.  The  full 
development  of  the  spiritual  birth  was  given  us,  ^ 
an  antidote  to  the  shock  of  physical  death.  As 
angels  rejoice  over  a  sinner  that  repenteth,  so  did 
we  rejoice  over  him.  He  was  leaving  earth,  but 
he  had  been  evidently  fitted  for  heaven.  Who 
would  not  willingly  have  surrendered  him  with  so 
olessed  a  hope,  rather  than  have  retaiLed  him  for 
the  lonsrest  life  without  it  ?  It  was  a  nio-ht  of 
weeping.  But  we  could  not. '•'•  sorrow  as  those  tha' 
Gave  no  hope.'' 


CHAPTER    VI. 

i-ROM    SUNDAY,    JAN.    14,    TO    SUNDAY,    JAN.    21'. 

RALLIES — LOA'G  FAREWELL — NUMEROUS  VISITS — FIDELITY 
OF  THE  RECORD VARIOUS  CONVERSATIONS ANTICIPA- 
TION OF  HEAVEN — AFFECTIONATE  REMEMBRANCE  OP 
EARTH — DESIRE     TO     PUBLISH     THE     GOSPEL — HINTS      ON 

PREACHING EVIDENCES     OF    CHRISTIANITY — HINDRANCES 

TO      AN      INQUIRER INCONSISTENCIES     OF     PROFESSORS 

CHRISTIANS       AFRAID       OF      INVESTIGATION CROMWELL'S 

LETTERS MURAL  TABLET INTERESTING  ARGUMENTA- 
TIVE DIALOGUE  ON  THE  TRUTH  OF  CHRISTIANITY — IMPO- 
TENCE OF  HUMAN    REASON — PHARAOH's  HEART  HARDENED 

— HIEROGLYPHICS — '  MY     TIMES    ARE     IN     THY     HAND* 

EVANGELICAL  TRUTH — A  PHYSICIAN's  OPPORTUNITIES  OP 
PROPAGATING    THE     GOSPEL — MAKING    A     COMPANION     OP 

^GOD — Herbert's  holdfast. 

In  mercy  to  survivors,  Dr.  Gordon  was  spared  for 
more  than  three  weeks,  after  the  trying  scenes  of 
the  preceding  night,  during  the  whole  of  which 
time  his  mental  faculties  retained  their  full  vigour. 
The  violence  of  his  pain  abated,  and  he  was  ena- 
bled to  enjoy  constant  intercourse  with  his  friends. 
He  loved  to  have  his  family  always  around  his  bed. 


JANUARY    14.  77 

and  to  spend  his  waking  hours  in  reciprocations  of 
affection,  and  conversation  or  reading  on  the  great 
themes  of  the  love  of  Christ,  and  the  glories  of 
Heaven.  This  respite  was  an  inestimable  boon  to 
those  most  dear  to  him,  enabling  them  both  to  hear 
and  to  say  much,  for  which  there  would  have  been 
110  opportunity,  had  he  been  taken  from  them  by 
the  sudden  attack  of  the  13th.  There  is  a  sad 
satisfaction  in  a  deliberate  farewell,  previous  to  a 
long  separation,  the  loss  of  which  is  the  greatest 
evil  connected  with  the  sudden  death  of  a  Chris- 
tian. But  this  privilege  was  fully  enjoyed  in  the 
present  instance,  and  a  rich  legacy  of  love  and 
piety  bequeathed  to  survivors,  more  precious  than 
any  worldly  wealth. 

Many  besides  his  immediate  connections,  shared 
in  the  privilege  of  conversing  wnth  him  on  his  dying 
bed.  He  saw  all  who  desired  an  interview,  delight- 
ing in  the  opportunity  thus  given  him  of  commend- 
ing that  Saviour,  who  had  in  so  remarkable  a  degree, 
given  him  "the  peace  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing." He  received  neaJy  three  hundred  visits, 
during  the  last  three  w'eeks  of  his  life,  from  persons 
of  all  ranks  ;  but  whether  rich  or  poor  he  welcomed 
tPjem  with  equal  courtesyj  saying  something  appro- 
priate and  kind  to  each,  and  pointing  to  '^  the 
Lamb  of  God  w'hich  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world."  The  writer  need  not  fear  the  charge  of 
exaggeration,  when  there  are  so  many  persons  who 


*7B  '  JANUARY    14. 

can  testify,  that  no  description  can  convey  an  ade- 
quate idea  of  the  calm  serenity,  the  vigorous  intel- 
lect, the  affectionate  manner,  and  the  joyful  hope 
manifested  by  the  sufferer.  Words  are  impotent  to 
depict  that  sick  room,  which,  to  use  the  words  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Dobbin  at  the  funeral,  was  '  not  at  all 
the  chamber  of  death,  but  the  robing-room  of 
Heaven.' 

We  were  anxious  to  catch  every  thing  he  said, 
that  we  might  treasure  it  in  our  memory  as  a  solace 
for  the  season  of  bereavement,  and  a  feast  for  future 
years.  It  was  originally  for  this  purpose,  but  after- 
wards for  a  more  extended  use,  that  the"  writer  took 
si  ort-hand  notes  of  almost  every  thing  that  Dr.  Gor- 
don said,  during  the  time  he  was  confined  to  his 
bed.  This  was  difficult  to  accomplish,  as  it  was 
necessary  to  avoid  the  observation  of  his  keen  eye, 
which  scarcely  anything  eluded,  for  had  he  known 
that  a  record  was  kept  of  what  he  said,  the  freedom 
of  his  communications  would  have  received  a  great 
check.  But  by  the  position  in  which  the  author  sat, 
he  was  able  to  secure  a  faithful  record  of  what 
passed,  without  any  suspicion  on  the  part  of  his  be- 
loved father-in-law.  This  statement  is  necessary, 
in  order  to  account  for  the  length  and  number  of 
the  conversations  recorded,  and  to  correct  the  infer- 
ence likely  to  be  drawn  from  the  precision  and 
beauty  with  which  many  of  Dr.  Gordon's  sentiments 
are  expressed,  that  the  phraseology  was  the  result 


JANUARY    14.  79 

of  subsequent  careful  revision,  and  not  the  unpre- 
meditated utterance  of  a  dying  man.  The  biogra- 
pher assures  the  reader,  that  the  words,  as  well  as 
the  ideas,  are  Dr.  Gordon's  own,  whose  extempo- 
raneous expressions  were  usually  marked  by  the  ac- 
curacy of  studied  compositions.  To  show  the  con- 
nection of  what  he  said,  the  remarks  of  others  are 
occasionally  recorded,  though  with  a  brevity  which 
will  account  for  whatever  abruptness  may  be  ob- 
served in  the  dialogue. 

January  14.  The  severity  of  the  pain  having 
abated,  the  beloved  sufferer  fell  into  a  doze.  During 
the  whole  of  this  day,  he  seemed  gradually  sinking 
from  extreme  exhaustion  ;  so  that,  as  far  as  our 
feelings,  and  his  own,  were  concerned,  it  was  still 
a  dying  scene.  Indeed,  this  was  the  case  till  his 
death  actually  occurred  ;  for,  notwithstanding  the 
occasional  variations  in  his  symptoms,  he  knew  that 
the  result  Avas  inevitable  ;  and  we  were  assured, 
both  by  himself,  and  the  medical  friends  who  visited 
him,  that  his  departure  might  take  place  at  any  hour. 
This  imparted  to  every  thing  he  said,  the  interest 
of  a  last  utterance.  But  though  on  the  verge  of 
the  other  world,  and  longing  to  be  with  Jesus,  his 
tender  heart  clung  to  the  objects  of  earthly  affection. 
The  sensibilities  of  the  man  shone  forth  the  more 
brightly,  in  the  hope  and  joy  of  the  Christian.  He 
delighted  to  be  reassured  of  our  affection,  and  to 
talk  over  the  happy  scenes  of  former  years;   but 


80  JANUARY    11. 

said,  '  I  am  going  to  a  betlar  (jounir)  '  He  sent 
kind  farewell  messagci>  to  many  friends.  Among 
others,  to  the  author's  father,  the  writer  of  the  weii- 
known  Tract,  ^  The  Sinner's  Friend,'  he  sent  this 
salutation — '  Assure  him  of  my  strong  affection  ;  tell 
him  I'm  the  sinner,  and  that  I've  found  the  Friend.' 
He  requested  that  a  nice  spot  should  b6  selected 
in  the  cemetery  for  his  grave  ;  and  that  there  might 
be  flowers    planted    upon  it.     It  was   remarked — 

*  This  is  a  bright  sunny  day.'  He  replied — '  Yes, 
but  I  shall  have  a  brighter  one  next  Sunday.'  In 
kind  consideration  to  our  feelings,  he  endeavoured 
to  prepare  us  for  the  contortions  of  the  features, 
which    sometimes    accompany    death,  and    said — 

*  You  w^ill  see  a  slight  movement  in  my  face,  but 
don't  be  alarmed,  for  there  will  be  no  pain.  I've 
been  thinking  how  busy  you  w^ill  be  about  my  fune- 
ral ;  but  I  shall  be  far  away.'  Suddenly  stretching 
out  his  emaciated  hands,  and  somewhat*  raising  his 
head,  his  countenance  beaming  with  rapture,  and 
his  eyes  gazing,  as  on  some  vision  of  beauty  and 
splendour,  he  said — ^  I  see  that  bright  region  spread 
before  me,  where  there  is  no  night,  and  where  no 
heat  scorches.  And  I  see  Jesus  too  ;  he  is  waiting 
to  receive  me!'  Then  after  a  pause — 'It  would 
not  do  for  a  worldly  mind  to  enter.  It  could  not 
enjoy  heaven.  There  must  be  a  change.  The  way 
to  be  prepared,  is  by  self-abasement,  and  reliance 
on  Christ.' 


JANUARY    15.  81 

Mrs.  G. — ^  Then  it  is  reliance  on  Him,  that  has 
given  you  so  much  peace  in  all  your  illness?' 

Dr.  G. — ^Oh!   yes;    it  is  being  found  in  Him 
Though  I  have  not  made  a  profession,  it  was  not  be- 
cause I  was  ashamed  of  Christ.     But  what  chiefly 
tleterred  me,  was  being  so  often  shocked  at  the  con- 
duct of  professors.' 

Mrs.  G. — '  I  hope  you  may  live  another  night  that 
I  may  nurse  you ;  but  you  experience  that  it  is — 

'  Sweet  to  lie  passive  in  his  hands, 
And  know  no  will  but  his.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Yes  !  and  cast  every  thing  on  Him — 
cast  every  thing  on  Him  V 

Monday,  15.  Soon  after  waking,  he  asked  that 
some  Shrewsbury  cakes  might  be  sent  for.  When 
they  vvere  brought,  though  he  only  ate  part  of  one, 
he  regarded  them  with  much  interest,  and  said — 
'  They  w^ere  my  favourites  at  school ;  I  often  spent 
my  pocket  money  in  them.'  Many  similar  inci- 
dents occurred,  illustrating  the  affectionate  remem- 
brance he  cherished  of  former  years.  Though  so 
near  the  heavenly  land,  which  by  faith  he  beheld  so 
earnestly,  he  cast  many  a  loving,  lingering,  look 
backward  on  the  scenes  of  his  pilgrimage  ;  recall- 
ing past  enjoyments,  and  especially  delighting  to 
refer  to  any  circumstances  which  identified  him  with 
those  he  most  dearly  loved.     He  seemed  to  live  hi* 


82  JANUARY    15. 

life  over  again  in  pleasant  reminiscences ;  leisurely 
surveying  and  bidding  it  adieu.  Far  from  regard- 
ing this  world  as  a  barren  wilderness,  without  one 
flower  to  cheer  the  weary  traveller,  he  looked  on  it 
as  stored  with  happiness  by  a  God  of  love  ;  and  his 
joy  in  departure  arose,  not  from  any  weariness  of  it, 
but  from  a  conviction  that  to  be  '  with  Jesus  was  far 
better.'  His  owm  w^ords,  on  his  sister,  Mrs.  R.,  en- 
tering his  room  this  morning,  w^ere— '  I  cannot  ex- 
press the  joy  I  feel.  I  can  leave  you  all,  though  no 
one  has  loved  you  more  than  I  have  done,  or  loved 
life  more.  It  is  all  nothing  to  me.  I  am  such  an 
unworthy  creature.  God  has  been  so  gracious,  and 
to  mCj  more  than  any  one.' 

He  did  not  think  a  Christian  should  cease  to  love 
this  life,  because  he  hopes  soon  to  enjoy  a  better. 
In  reference  to  his  residence,  in  furnishing  which  he 
had  tnken  great  interest,  and  exhibited  an  elegant 
taste,  it  was  remarked  by  his  wife,  *  You  w^ll  leave 
your  beautiful  house.'  He  said,  '  Ah  !  I  hoped  to 
get  round  it,  but  I  have  not  been  able.  You  must 
go  round  for  me.'  Some  one  said,  '  But  you  have 
a  better  house  to  go  to  :'  to  w^hich  he  promptly  re- 
plied, '  Yes — but  I  am  not  talking  of  that  now. 
The  things  are  separate.  JVbio  I  wish  to  talk  of 
this.  You'll  look  at  the  rooms,  and  think  of  me  ? 
Talk  to  me  a  little  about  it.' 

At  different  times,  he  said — *  As  I  get  weaker, 
my  faith  and  prospects  are  stronger  and  brighter 


JANUARY    14.  83 

The  way  to  have  strong  faith  is,  to  think  nothing  of 
yourself. — You  have  come  to  see  me  ;  I  have  many 
friends,  but  there  is  none  comparable  to  Jesus. — I 
thought  I  should  have  lived  many  years,  but  how 
little  we  know  !  And  if  I  were  to  live  twenty  years 
more,  perhaps  my  friends  might  be  gone,  and  I 
might  have  no  consolation  like  this,  in  having  them 
a11  around  me. — I  have  no  desire  to  get  better,  ex- 
cept to  be  of  use  in  propagating  the  gospel ;  I  would 
mix  it  with  my  practice.  If  I  lived,  it  would  be 
my  whole  delight  to  publish  Christ.'  To  the  pew- 
opener,  he  said — '  I  am  going  to  heaven,  and  hope 
to  see  you  there.  Seek  Christ !  I  see  my  own  un- 
worthinesSj  and  am  trusting  only  to  Him.  Remem- 
ber me  kindly  to  your  wife ;  I  hope  we  shall  all 
meet.'  He  forgot  no  one,  and  made  minute  inqui- 
ries respecting  the  relations  of  those,  among  his 
visitors,  who  were  in  humble  circumstances  of  life  ; 
mentioning  them  by  name,  with  some  message  of 
affectionate  interest  in  their  welfare. 

To  a  lady  from  Welton,  who  told  him  how  much 
his  friends  there  loved  him,  and  would  cherish  his 
memory,  he  replied — '  Tell  them  all  what  Christ  has 
done  for  my  soul.  He  is  waiting  for  me.  I  am 
very  happy.  Christ  is  all.  Say  to  my  friends,  how 
much  I  am  indebted  to  them  for  their  prayers.'  The 
willingness  of  Christ  to  save  at  the  eleventh  hour 
being  mentioned,  he  rejoined — '  Ah  !  but  it  has  not 
oeen  the  eleventh  hour  with  me.'     The  woman  being 


Bi  JANUARY    15. 

referred  to,  who  touched  the  hem  of  Christ's  garment, 
he  said  with  great  emphasis — '  But  I  have  embraced 
him,  and  wish  to  be  like  him.' 

To  Sir  W.  L. — ^  I  have  just  been  thinking  I  shall 
be  looking  down  from  those  happy  realms  on  you, 
toiling  with  the  storms  and  winters  of  life.  I  only 
regret  I  have  not  seen  earlier  that  glorious  gospel  as 
I  now  see  it,  so  as  to  have  preached  it  to  the  mul- 
titudes of  men  I  have  addressed.  If  restored, 
nothing  should  I  rejoice  in  more  than  this  ;  I  should 
never  be  ashamed  of  Jesus  ;  I  w^ould  preach  Him  to 
all.  An  infidel  once  said  to  me,  after  hearing  N. 
preach,  that  if  he  believed  such  things,  he  could 
never  cease  praying  for,  and  pleading  with  the  peo- 
ple. That  is  just  as  I  feel  I  should  do,  if  I  were 
spared.  My  physical  strength  might  not  be  suffi- 
cient, but  as  to  the  interest  and  delight  of  it,  I  should 
never  tire.  At  Harrogate,  I  met  a  son  of  Mr.  W., 
and  was  disposed  to  smile  at  him,  for  relinquishing 
a  lucrative  business,  in  order  to  preach  the  gospel. 
But  I  could  delight  to  do  the  same  thing  now.  I 
could  relinquish  every  thing  for  this.  Not  that  I 
think  worldly  business  incompatible  w^ith  religion, 
but  from  the  pleasure  the  other  w^ould  afford  me  ;  I 
could  do  it  with  a  zeal  w^hich  would  surprise  my- 
self.' 

Being  asked  by  the  author,  if  from  his  own  judg- 
ment, as  an  attentive  and  inquiring  hearer,  he  could 
give  him  any  hints  as  to  the  best  method  of  preach* 


JANITARY    15.  85 

ing,  he  said — '  Preach  earnestly,  and  simply,  so  as 
to  be  understood ;  but  the  best  preaching  is  sincerity, 
and  a  consistent  life.  Men  think  much  more  of 
that  than  anything,  there  is  no  influence  without 
that.  I  would  not  listen  to  a  man  whose  life  was 
inconsistent,  though  he  were  as  wise  as  Solomon.' 

N. — '  What  do  you  consider  the  best  method  of 
presenting  the  arguments  in  favour  of  Christianity  ?' 

Dr.  G. — '  I  think  little  of  evidences  ;  Scripture 
is  its  own  evidence — the  great  truths  it  contains. 
Men  grant  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Preaching  evi- 
dences is  like  putting  up  ti  man  to  knock  him 
down.' 

N. — *  You  always  acknowledged  the  historic  truth 
of  Christianity  ?' 

Dr.  G. — I  did  more,  I  loved  and  honoured  it,  and 
always  felt  the  religious  man  was  the  happiest  man  ; 
though  I  did  not  feel  as  I  do  now— -the  need  of 
Christ  for  myself.' 

N. — *  What  were  your  principal  hindrances  ?' 

Dr.  G. — *  Above  all,  the  inconsistencies  of  pro» 
fessing  Christians.  I  have  met  with  persons  who 
could  propose  and  approve  measures,  from  which  I 
revoHed.  The  folly  and  injudiciousness  of  some 
Christians  in  their  mode  of  talking  of  religion,  was 
another  impediment ;  also  the  intolerance  of  many, 
I  always  thought  seriously  of  religion,  daily.  I 
was  very  anxious  about  it.  This  made  me  ask 
questions  I  should  not  otherwise  have  thought  of 
8 


86  JANUARY    15. 

But  the  very  questions  were  put  down  as  infidelity. 
Often  in  the  company  of  professing  Christians,  I 
have  not  dared  to  make  free  inquiries.  This  looked 
like  a  fear  of  truth,  and  as  if  they  distrusted  their 
own  religion.  I  remember  delivering  once,  some 
^'^.ctures  on  Physical  Education,  to  which  some  one 
replied  on  behalf  of  Christianity,  as  if  my  views 
impugned  it — as  if  the  science  and  the  religion 
could  not  both  be  true.' 

Worthy  of  deep  consideration  are  these  remarks. 
The  conduct  of  professors  is  narrowly  observed.  If 
there  is  any  indicatioB  that  they  themselves  do  not 
firmly  believe,  or  are  not  influenced  by  their  faith, 
the  effect  cannotbut  be  injurious.  Instead  of  mani- 
festing alarm,  when  startling  discoveries  are  made, 
and  denouncing  such  inquiries  as  having  an  infidel 
tendency,  Christians  should  ever  be  among  the 
most  earnest  friends  of  free  inquiry.  They  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  the  fullest  investigation.  They 
are  not  called  upon  to  descend  from  the  high  eleva- 
tion of  an  established  truth,  to  prove  its  reconcile- 
ableness  to  every  new  hypothesis.  Let  Philosophers 
first  settle  among  themselves,  what  is  the  truth  in 
science,  and  Christians  need  be  under  no  alarm  that 
it  will  be  at  variance  with  the  Bible.  The  God  of 
revelation  is  the  God  of  nature.  He  cannot  con- 
tradict himself.  Hitherto,  every  science,  the  more 
fully  it  has  been  investigated,  has  the  more  clearl} 
confirmed  the  sacred  Scriptures.     It  is  only  a  limited 


JANUARY    15.  87 

and  imperfect  knowledge,  which  suggests  discrep- 
ancies. 

Our  interpretations  of  both  the  great  books  of 
God,  may  be  false,  but  the  declarations  themselves 
cannot  be.  A  deeper  philosophy  or  a  sounder 
criticism,  will  ever  prove  an  additional  bulwark  of 
the  truth.  To  shun  the  philosopher  as  a  foe  to  re- 
ligion, and  to  feel  alarm  at  the  progress  of  scientific 
discovery,  manifests  a  very  defective  faith.  "  He 
that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste.'' 

Still  more  important  is  a  consistent  life.  Men 
judge  of  a  system  more  by  the  actions  of  its  adhe- 
rents, than  the  nature  of  its  doctrines.  Not  that 
such  reasoning  is  always  legitimate.  Advocates  of 
liberty  may  themselves  be  tyrants,  and  eulogists  of 
virtue  be  votaries  of  vice.  Christianity,  estimated 
by  the  character  of  its  author,  and  the  tendency  of 
its  doctrines,  would  still  be  a  religion  of  love, 
though  all  its  disciples  were  murderers.  The  in- 
consistency proves  a  false  profession,  not  neces- 
sarily an  ineffective  or  injurious  creed.  Still,  the 
mference,  being  easy  and  plausible,  is  general ;  and 
if  the  holiness  of  professed  Christians  is  influential 
in  favour  of  their  religion,  the  effect  of  a  contrary 
character  will  generally  be  the  reverse.  When 
those  who  are  regarded  as  converted  men  manifest 
a  violence  of  temper,  a  rudeness  of  demeanour,  an 
unkind  and  unforgiving  spirit,  a  grasping  and  cove- 
tous disposition,  a  meanness  and  unfairness  in  their 


SS  JANUARY    15. 

dealings,  from  which  many  men  of  amiable  temper 
and  a  keen  sense  of  honour,  though  without  an^ 
profession  of  piety,  revolt ;  is  it  not  likely  that  the 
latter  will  be  encouraged  to  think  lightly  of  a  reli- 
gion which  seems  productive  of  so  little  fruit?  Or 
if  the  true  distinction  is  made^  must  not  such  in- 
consistency tend  to  deter  from  ''that  confession  of 
Christ  before  men,"  which  is  g^  expressly  enjoined, 
as  it  is  calculated  to  confer  important  benefits  on 
the  individual  himself,  on  the  Church,  and  on  the 
world  ? 

To  "name  the  name  of  Christ,"  and  not  "depart 
from  iniquity" — to  pay  the  homage  of  the  lip,  but 
"in  works  to  deny  Him,"  is  an  insult  to  God,  and 
an  injury  to  man,  too  seldom  considered  in  this  age 
of  profession.  It  is  only  when  Christians  are 
"  living  epistles,  knowm  and  read  of  all  men," — 
when  the  visible  preaching  of  the  church  corrobo- 
rates the  oral  preaching  of  the  pulpit,  and  the  daily 
life  of  its  members  presents  a  manifest  transcript  of 
the  principles  of  its  great  Head,  that  any  extensive 
and  permanent  effects  are  likely  to  follow  from  the 
publication  of  the  gospel.  Whatever  the  learning 
or  the  eloquence  which  may  characterize  it,  preach- 
ing must  ever  be  essentially  defective,  upless  the 
whole  church,  as  wdth  a  mighty,  consentaneous 
voice,  responds  by  its  obvious  acts  to  the  word 
spoken.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  will  that  word,  as 
of  old,  "have  free  course  and  be  glorified." 


JANUARY    16.  89 

Tuesday  16th.  On  awaking,  he  said,  '  Read  to 
me  something  about  Heaven.'  Having  listened  to 
Bunyan's  incomparable  description  of  the  passage 
of  the  pilgrims  through  the  river,  and  their  entrance 
into  the  celestial  city,  he  said,  'Its  not  half  so 
beautiful  as  I  have  pictured  it  to  myself.'  Various 
selections  from  the  Bible,  and  Hymns  descriptive 
of  the  heavenly  state,  called  forth  frequent  expres- 
sions of  the  delight  he  felt  in  the  prospect  of  soon 
realizing  it. 

His  son-in-law  mentioned  his  intention  of  having 
a  mural  tablet  placed  over  his  seat  at  church,  and 
said  the  inscription  should  record  that  he  was  the 
friend  of  the  working  man,  adding,  after  a  pause, 
^  and  that  your  whole  trust  was  in  Jesus.'  To  this 
he  earnestly  responded,  '  0  yes,  say  that — be  sure 
you  say  that !  ' 

N. — '  Then  you  are  anxious  for  Christ  to  be  ex- 
tolled ? ' 

Dr.  G.— '  0  yes— that's  it,  that's  it ! ' 

How  well  he  had  learned  that  truth  which  none 
can  experimentally  know  but  by  the  teaching  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  '  in  me  dwelleth  no  good  thing !' 
In  conformity  with  his  wish  that  Christ  should  be 
extolled,  the  tablet  bears  the  following  inscrip- 
tion : — 


8* 


ft  JANUARY    16. 

IN  MEMORY  OF  WILLIAM  GORDON,  M.D :  F.L.S. 

BY   A    COUKSE   OF   VARIED   PHILANTHROPY, 

A.\D  SY  SELF-DExVYING  DEVOTION  TO  THE  CAUSe  OF  SOCIAL  PROGRESS, 

IN   THE   ZEALOUS   ADVOCACY    OF   THE   PRINCIPLES    OF 

LIBERTY,    EDUCATION,    PEACE,    AND   TEMPERANCE, 

HAVING   EARNED    FOR   HIMSELF   THE  DISTINGUISHED    TITLE   OP 

'  THE  people's    friend,' 

BE   RESTED    FROM   HIS   LABOURS,    FEB.    7,    1849.        AGED   47   YEARS. 

AFTER   MANY   YEARS    OF  ANXIOUS   INVESTIGATIOI  , 

HE  ACKNOWLEDGED   THAT   THE   ONLY  TRUE  PHILOSOPHY 

WAS    THE   RECEPTION   OF   THE   GOSPEL   IN   THE   SPIRIT   OF    A    CHILD, 

FAULTLESS   IN   THE   ESTIMATION   OF   THOSE   WHO    KNEW    HIM   BEST, 

HE    CONFESSED    HIMSELF    TO    BE   THE    '  CHIEF    OF    SINNERS.' 

FINDING    SOLID    PEACE,    AND   TRIUMPHING   OVER   DEATH, 

BY   SIMPLE  RELIANCE   ON   HIM   WHO   SAID  : — 

"COME   UNTO    ME  ALL   YE   THAT   LABOUR   AND    ARE  HEAVY  LADEN, 

AND   I   WILL   GIVE  YOU   REST." 

To  W.,  a  pious  working  man,  who  had  always 
manifested  great  respect  for  him,  and  who  called 
this  morning  to  bid  him  farewell,  he  said,  '  You 
see  me  better  than  you  ever  saw  me  before,  Mr. 
W.  I  hare  sought  the  same  Saviour  you  serve.  I 
have  asked  Him  to  forgive  my  sins,  and  He  has 
done  so.  He  will  present  me  to  the  Almighty.  I 
am  going  a  very  delightful  journey,  to  a  very  happy 
home,  where  I  shall  meet  only  with  the  wise  and 
the  good.     And  to  be  with  Jesus  !     I  would  not 


JANUARY    16.  91 

change  my  present  condition  for  all  the  wealth  in 
the  world !  This  has  been  a  gradual  thing  with 
me,  though  I  have  not  had  such  great  joy  till  now. 
It  is  brighter  to-day  than  ever.  I  have  not  had  a 
cloud  all  through  my  illness.  How  great  is  the 
goodness  of  God  !  And  all  to  be  had  for  asking  ! 
Nothing  to  do  for  ourselves — but  to  take  what  God 
gives  us  !  All  made  ready  for  us.  Only  to  hum- 
ble ourselves  and  receive.  It's  so  clear,  that  when 
once  seen,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt.  Press  on  with 
vigour.  You  won't  reach  perfection  here,  but  seek 
the  Holy  Spirit. 

W. — *  I'm  delighted  to  see  you  thus,  Doctor.' 
Dr.  G. — 'I'm  delighted  to  see  you,  Mr.  W.,  and 
all  who  entertain  such  views  and  are  sincere  like 
yourself.     Learning,  riches,  fame^  are  all  nothing 
in  comparison.' 

W. — '  I've  often  prayed  for  you,  Doctor,  w^hen 
I've  passed  you  in  the  street.  There's  nothing  like 
religion  for  such  times  as  these.' 

Dr.  G. — 'For  all  times.  In  health  there's  no 
pleasure  like  this.' 

Dr.  G.  was  much  interested  in  listening  to  some 
of  Cromwell's  letters.  The  following  extract  es- 
pecially delighted  him: — 'Salute  your  dear  wife 
from  me.  Bid  her  beware  of  a  bondage  spirit.  Fear 
is  the  natural  issue  of  such  a  spirit ;  the  antidote  is, 
Love.  The  voice  of  Fear  is :  '  If  I  had  done  this  ; 
if  I  had  done  that,  how  w^ll  it  had  been  with  me  ?' 


92  JANUARY    16.  ^  ' 

— I  know  this  hath  been  her  vain  leasoning.  Love 
argueth  in  this  wise :  what  a  Christ  have  I ;  vrhat 
a  Father  in  and  through  Him !  What  a  name  hath 
my  Father :  "  Merciful,  gracious,  long- stiff erii^g, 
abundant  in  goodness  and  truth',  forgiving  iniquity, 
transgression,  and  sin.^^  "What  a  nature  hath  my 
Father:  He  is  love;  free  in  it,  unchangeable,  in- 
finite !  What  a  covenant  between  Him  and  Christ, 
— for  all  the  seed,  for  every  one :  wherein  He  un- 
dertakes all,  and  the  poor  soul  nothing.  The  new 
'covenant  is  grace, — to,  or  upon  the  soul ;  to  vv'hich 
it  (the  soul)  is  passive  and  receptive :  Til  do  away 
their  siiis ;  Til  write  my  Law,  4'c. ;  Til  put  it  in 
their  hearts  :  they  shall  never  depart  from  me,  &c. 
This  commends  the  love  of  God ;  it's  Christ  dying 
for  men  without  strength — for  men  whilst  sinners — 
whilst  enemies.  And  shall  we  seek  for  the  root  Oa 
our  comforts  within  us?  What  God  hath  done, 
what  He  is  to  us  in  Christ,  this  is  the  root  of  our 
comfort:  in  this  is  stability;  in  us  is  weakness. 
Acts  of  obedience  are  not  perfect,  and  therefore 
yield  not  perfect  grace.  Faith,  as  an  act,  yields  it 
not,  but  only  as  it  carries  us  unto  Him,  who  is  oui 
perfect  rest  and  peace ;  in  whom  we  are  accounted 
of,  and  received  by  the  Father,  even  as  Christ  him 
self!  This  is  our  high  calling.  Rest  we  here,  and 
here  only.'* 

*  Carlyle's  Letters  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  Vol.  \\.  p.  377. 
The  Protector,  by  Merle  D'Aubigne,  p.  202. 


JANUARY    16.  93 

Dr.  G— *Does  Cromwell  say  that?  Read  it 
again.  It's  what  I've  been  wanting  these  two 
hours.  I've  been  thinking,  0,  if  I  had  not  gone  to 
Harrogate,  or  if  I  had  not  gone  to  Scarborough,  I 
might  have  been  better.  How  that  suits  me  where 
he  writes — 'Fear  says,  if  I  had  done  this,  and 
avoided  that :  but  love  says,  what  a  Christ  have  I ! 
What  a  Father  have  I!" 

Another  letter,  which  specially  interested  him, 
was  one  addressed  by  the  Protector  to  his  *  beloved 
daughter,  Bridget  Ireton' — in  which  he  says,  '  Your 
sister  is,  I  trust,  in  mercy,  exercised  with  some  per- 
plexed thoughts.  She  sees  her  own  vanity  and 
carnal  mind :  bewailing  it :  she  seeks  after  (as  1 
hope  also)  what  will  satisfy.  And  thus  to  be  a 
seeker,  is  to  be  one  of  the  best  sect  next  to  a  finder  ; 
and  such  a  one  shall  every  faithful  humble  seeker 
be  at  the  end.  Happy  seeker,  happy  finder!  Who 
ever  tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,  without  some 
sense  of  self,  vanity,  and  badness?  Dear  heart, 
press  on  ;  let  not  husband,  let  not  anything  cool 
thy  affections  after  Christ.  That  which  is  best 
worthy  of  love  in  thy  husband,  is  that  of  the  image 
of  Christ  he  bears.  Look  on  that,  and  love  it  best, 
and  all  the  rest  for  that.'* 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  Dr.  G.  asked  for  Watts' 

*  Carlyle's  Letters  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  Vol.  i.  p.  277. 
The  Protector  by  Merle  D'Aubigne,  p.  79. 


94  JANUARY    16. 

Hymns  for  Children,  which  had  been  a  favourite 
book  from  his  earliest  years.     He  frequently  intei 
rupted  the  reader  with  expressions  of  admiration. 
His  case  w^as  beautifully  illustrated  by  the  hymn — 

How  fine  has  the  day  been !     How  bright  was  the  sim, 
How  lovely  and  joyful  the  course  that  he  run  ! 
Tho'  he  rose  in  a  mist,  when  his  race  he  begun, 

And  there  followed  some  droppings  of  rain ; 
But  now  the  fair  traveller  comes  to  the  west, 
His  rays  are  all  gold,  and  his  beauties  are  best, 
He  paints  the  sky  gay  as  he  sinks  to  his  rest, 

And  foretells  a  bright  rising  again 

To  Mr.  K. — "  I  have  seen  my  own  vileness,  and 
sought  the  Saviour.  I  cannot  tell  the  place  and 
the  time.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth, 
and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not 
tell  whence  it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth."  But  I 
know  it  proceeds  from  the  goodness  of  God.  Mine 
is  a  testimony  w^hich  few  can  give.  The  course  of 
my  reading  has  been  so  curious  and  strange.  I 
have  met  with  so  many  quibbles  and  objections, 
and  my  mind  has  often  been  in  a  maze  and  con- 
fusion.' 

Mr.  K. — '  Those  things  are  not  profitable.' 

Dr.  G. — 'No!  I  don't  regret  that;  it  has  given 

me  a  strength  I  could  not  otherwise  expect.     I  feel 

now  on  so  firm  a  rock,  that  Satan  cannot  possibly 

shake   me.     But  I  am  not  trusting  to  m.yself.     I 


JANUARY    16.  95 

have  been  always  a  seeker  after  truth,  though  often 
bewildered  in  the  investigation.' 

Mrs.  G.,  remarked,  what  a  mercy  it  was  that  he 
had  no  clouds  to  darken,  no  temptations  to  harass 
him. 

Dr.  G. — '  The  moment  they  are  suggested  I  dash 
them  away,  and  keep  my  eye  fixed  on  my  Saviour ; 
I  find  him  always  near.' 

Mrs.  G. — ^  Then  you  feel  that — 

Jesus  can  make  a  dyingf  bed, 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are. 

Dr.  G. — '  Indeed  I  can  !  And  what  a  mercy  to 
be  able  to  enjoy  conversation,  with  my  memory 
and  intellect  as  clear  as  ever.  And  now  that  my 
pain  has  subsided,  I  can  enjoy  my  friends.  I  often 
expressed  a  wish  to  die  when  my  sufferings  were 
so  intense,  for  I  had  no  fea£.^  But  I  see  how  much 
better  it  was  that  I  did  not  die  then.  He  know^s 
the  best.' 

Mrs.  G. — '  You  seem  to  feel  the  Saviour  so  very 
near.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Indeed  I  do  !  If  I  had  not  him  as  my 
friend,  w^hat  a  dreary  departing  it  w'ould  be  ;  but 
now  I  am  going  to  a  dear,  dear  friend !' 

Mrs.  G. — '  You  have  exerted  yourself  to-day  very 
much,  in  speaking  to  every  one  ;  but  you  are  so 
anxious  to  preach  Christ.' 


96  JANUARY  16. 

Dr.  G. — ^  Indeed  I  am  !  And  I  think  and  feel 
this  may  be  my  last  opportunity.' 

Mr.  Knight. — *  It  is  delightful  to  see  you  thus.' 

Dr.  G.— ^  But  how  delightful  to/ee/  thus  !  The 
only  reason  \Yhy  I  wish  to  live,  is  to  preach  the 
gospel.  I  should  not  be  ashamed  of  Christ  in  pub- 
lic or  private.' 

During  the  night  he  said  to  his  daughter — ^  I 
may  live  one  or  two  days  more  ;  but  I  leave  it  with 
God,  and  wait  His  will.  I  have  been  picturing  the 
flowers  nodding  over  my  grave.  And  when  it  is/ 
windy  and  rainy,  you  will  perhaps  think  how 
dreary  it  is  for  me,  but  remember,  I  shall  not  feel 
that.' 

The  hymn  was  repeated — 

How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds. 

On  the  closing  couplet— 

And  may  the  savour  of  thy  name, 
Refresh  my  soul  in  death  I — 

he  said— ^  It  refreshes  my  soul.' 

To  his  faithful  man-servant,  he  said— *  I  am 
going  to  a  better  country.  I  hope  you  are  prepared 
to  come  too.  Seek  Christ !  He'll  be  the  greatest 
comfort  to  you  all  your  days.  He  is  the  best  friend 
^f  man.' 

Wednesday,  Jan.  17.     To  the  surprise  of  all.  Dr. 


JANUARY  16.  d 

Gordon  still  survived.  He  was  apparently  so  near 
his  end,  that  every  day  was  considered  to  be  his 
last.  He  was  anxious  to  see  as  many  of  his  friends 
as  possible,  and  to  lose  no  opportunity  of  testifying 
to  the  truth  and  consoling  power  of  religion.  He 
expressed  a  wish  to  bid  farewell  to  an  elderly  man, 
whom  he  had  known,  and  greatly  respected  for 
many  years;  and  whose  uniform  kindness  of  dispo- 
sition made  him  universally  beloved,  but  for  whose 
spiritual  welfare.  Dr.  G.  felt  much  solicitude.  Mr. 
*  *  having  come  to  his  bed-side,  the  following 
dialogue  occurred,  which  cannot  fail  of  deeply 
interesting  the  reader,  considering  that  a  dying 
man,  worn  to  a  shadow  by  a  long  and  painful 
illness,  and  who  thought  himself  within  a  few 
hours  of  eternity,  took  so  prominent  a  part  in  it : — 

Mr.  *  * — *  I  am  very  sorry,  Doctor,  to  see  you 
so  ill.' 

Dr.  G. — '  I  am  very  well,  and  very  happy.  But 
I  rest  on  Christ.  When  we  pride  ourselves  on  out 
own  conduct' — 

Mr.  *  * — '  0  Doctor !  you  have  always  lived  a 
good  life.     Every  body  respects  you.' 

Dr.  G. — 'But  I  must  not  think  of  myself;  all 
the  merits  I  have  must  be  thrown  aside.  You 
don't  imderstand  that.  I  once  did  not.  My  course 
of  reading  has  been  of  a  very  varied  and  multiplied 
kind,  but  I  can  assure  you  there  is  a  consolation  in 
9 


98  JANUARY  17. 

resting  your  hopes  of  future  happiness  on  the  merits 
of  Christ,  which  the  world  has  yet  to  learn.' 

Mr.  *  * — *  I  know  that  in  these  moments,  reh- 
gion  is  every  thing,  though  I  cannot  see  just  as  you. 
I  know  I  must  die  ;  and  am  sensible  I  shall  live 
again.  That  future  state  is  a  serious  consideration. 
But  some  think  there  will  be  annihilation.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  So  dreadful  do  I  think  annihilation, 
that  I  would  rather  live  in  pain,  than  not  live  at  all. 
There's  nothing  more  dreadful.  But  I  have  a  bet- 
ter hope.  It  is  beyond  human  reason — it  comes 
without  human  reason.' 

Mr.  *  * — 'I  am  sensible  that  it  must  be  happy 
to  think  so.  I  have  been  on  what  I  thought  my 
death-bed,  as  you  are,  and  though  I  don't  pride 
myself,  I  thought  there  was  nothing  I  ever  did  that 
I  wished  I  had  not  done.  I  never  hurt  man  nor 
woman,  and  if  that  were  the  last  of  me,  I  could 
die  comfortable.  But,  then,  there  was  the  thought 
of  rising  again.  Ah  !  I  may  die  easy  enough,  but 
there's  some  chance  of  being  called  over  to  account, 
and  there  I  was  bothered;  fori  thought  with  Shake- 
spere,  that  if  dying  was  a  sleep,  I  might  have  awful 
dreams.  But  I  can't  do  as  some  people,  drop  down 
on  my  knees,  and  say,  '  God  be  merciful.' ' 

Dr.  G. — '  You  never  saw  me  drop  on  my  knees, 
Mr.  *  *. — You  said  you  thought  you  had  never 
injured  any  one.     Why,  my  dear  fellow,  there  was 


JANUARY    17.  99 

not  a  day,  when  I  analyzed  my  life,  that  I  had  not 
done,  spoken,  or  thought  evil.' 

Mr.  *  * — ^  I  reconciled  myself  by  thinking,  that 
if  I  had  done  evil,  I  did  not  know  it,  and  therefore 
there  was  no  guilt.' 

Dr.  G.—*  There  is  a  right  line  and  a  wrong, 
which  does  not  depend  on  you.  You  do  not  make 
the  straight  line.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  It's  awkward  when  there  are  two 
roads,  and  you  don't  know  which  to  take.' 

Dr.  G. — *  There  is  only  one  way.  A  man  shews 
me  a  straight  line;  I  say  it  is  not  straight.  My 
knowledge  of  geometry  proves  there  is  only  one 
straight  line.  So  there  is  only  one  circle,  right  or 
wrong.  So  I  act,  kindly  or  unkindly.  If  I  think 
an  evil  thought  of  a  man,  I  act  unkindly.  Human 
beings  cannot  act  perfectly  ;  but  perfection  ought 
to  be  my  standard ;  and  when  God  requires  it,  and 
I  don't  come  up  to  it,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  who  is  to 
make  up  my  deficiencies  ^  For  if  one  man  says  he 
only  spoke  one  unkind  word,  another  may  say  he 
only  spoke  two,  so  that  you  may  have  a  world  of 
quarrelling.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  Well,  it  is  a  consolation  to  see  a  man 
as  I  never  have  before,  say  he  dies  in  hopes  of 
living  again.  I  always  felt  miserable  at  such 
Fcenes.' 

Dr.  G.— '  Why  ?' 

yr.  ** — *I   thought   they  were  dying  without 


100  JANUARY    17. 

hope.  One  was  a  good  man,  as  a  member  of  soci- 
ety ;  he  said — ^  To-morrow  all  will  be  over  with  me, 
all  over,  my  boy,  all  over,  dead  and  gone,  that's  all 
that  can  be  said  of  me.'  Yet  he  was  a  man  of  very 
strong  mind.' 

Dr.  G.— *Did  you  ever  see  a  locomotive  engine?' 

Mr.  *  *— ^Yes.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  Do  you  think  it  moves  ?' 

Mr.  *  *— 'Yes.' 

Dr.  G. — I  can  prove  that  it  does  not,  and  I  defy 
you  to  disprove  my  argument.' 

Mr.  *  "^ — '  Well,  but  something  moves.' 

Dr.  G. — 'It  is  a  delusion.  It  is  not  a  reality. 
May  you  not  be  deceived  ?  A  body  only  occupies 
a  space  equal  to  itself.' 

Mr.  *  *— '  Well  ?' 

Dr.  G. — '  It  cannot  hold  two  spaces  at  one  and 
the  same  time.' 

Mr.  *  *— 'Well?' 

Dr.  G. — '  Get  that  into  your  head.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  I  see  your  meaning.' 

Dr.  G. — '  A  body  cannot  move  where  it  is,  and  it 
cannot  move  where  it  is  not.  It  is  stationary  where 
it  is,  and  cannot  move  where  it  is  not,  therefore  it 
does  not  move  at  all.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  Ah  !  this  is  good  argument,  and  sound 
too.' 

Dr.  G. — '  This  argument  was  employed  three 
thousand  years  ago,  and  it  is  unrefuted  yet.    Never- 


JANUARY    17.  101 

theless,  this  man  says  there  is  nothing  after  death  I 
Is  this  man  learned  ?' 

Mr.  ^  * — '  In  some  things.' 

Dr.  G. — 'Did  you  ever  see  a  straight  line  ?' 

Mr.  *  *— '  Yes.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  If  you  go  to  Cambridge,  you  will  find 
a.vn  who  will  hail  you  as  the  greatest  discoverer  of 
tne  age.     Have  you  ever  seen  a  circle  ?' 

Mr.  *  * — '  Yes,  I've  seen  what  was  called  a  cir- 
cle, and  I  thought  it  was.' 

Dr.  G-— 'Don't  you  see  how  ignorant  men  are? 
Were  yo4  to  calculate  the  radii  of  a  circle  accord- 
ing to  thoj.e  you  draw,  what  imperfect  radii  would 
they  be  !     Sume  would  be  shorter  than  others. 

M.  *  * — k  But  how  can  you  prove  there  is  no 
straight  line  ?' 

Dr.  G. — '  Easily.  Draw  one,  and  take  a  micro- 
scope.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  Yes ;  there  will  be  ins  and  outs.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Such  aaen  should  think  more.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  With  all  our  thinking,  we  are  very 
ignorant.  Pope  spoke  of  this,  where  he  talks  about 
^  teaching  eternal  wisdom  how  to  rule,'  adding — 
'  then  drop  into  thyself,  and  be  a  fool.'  I've  often 
thought  there  is  truth  in  that  passage  where  he 
speaks  of  shewing  a  Newton  as  you  shew  an  ape. 
But  Pope  speaks  of  a  man  bursting  as  a  bubble, 
which  turns  to  water,  and  who  can  find  it  again  i^ 
Yet   great  men  may  err.     You  are  a  very  clever 

9* 


102  JANUARY    17. 

man,  Doctor,  quite  a  philosopher ;  but  the  best  oi 
ns  know  very  little.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  Nothing  !  and  it  is  that  utter  ignorance 
which  gives  me  this  blessedness  now.  All  my 
reasoning  brings  me  to  this — '  I  must  rest  on 
Christ.' 

Mr.  *  * — '  Well,  I  think  Him  the  best  person  on 
whom  we  can  rest;  I  always  did.  It's  a  pleasure 
to  hear  you  talk,  for  its  a  very  uncommon  thing  to 
be  very  strong  in  opinion  while  very  weak  in  body. 
To  your  family  it  must  be  very  delightful  to  see  you 
like  this.  I  would  give  worlds  to  be  the  remainder 
of  my  life,  in  the  same  state  of  mind.' 

Dr.  G.,  being  greatly  exhausted,  said  faintly,  but 
earnestly,  '  Try  !' 

Mr.  *  * — ^  I  do  in  my  paltry  way.  What  you 
say  is  sincere.  There  is  no  humbug  about  you. 
What  you  have,  no  man  could  shake.' 

Dr.  G.— ^  None  !' 

Mr.  *  * — '  And  he  would  be  a  vile  man  who 
should  attempt.  I  was  glad  to  hear  you  say  you 
placed  your  hopes  on  Christ.  You  have  often  said 
to  me,  the  Bible  told  you  this  and  that.  I  reverence 
the  Bible,  but  I  have  often  doubted  whether  it  has 
(lone  good  or  ill.  The  New  Testament  I  always 
considered  beautiful.  But  in  the  Old  Testament, 
though  there  are  some  things  good  and  fine,  there 
are  others  at  which  I  have  shuddered.' 

Here   Dr.    G.    was   completely   exhausted,  ana 


JANUARY    17.  103 

seemed  to  doze.  To  save  him  from  further  fatigue, 
the  argument  was  taken  up  by  the  writer,  who  in- 
quired what  things  those  were  that  were  so  objec- 
tionable. 

Mr.  *  * — '  The  historical  accounts.  The  Jews 
being  so  bad,  in  spite  of  such  kindness  from  God. 
What  wickedness !' 

N. — '  Does  not  that  prove  the  truth  of  the  Bible, 
w^hich  says,  that  the  "  heart  is  deceitful  above  all 
things,  and  desperately  wicked  ?"  "What  can  be 
a  stronger  illustration  of  this,  than  the  history  of  a 
nation  which  w^as  so  wicked,  though  placed  in  such 
favourable  circumstances  for  being  different  ?  Be- 
sides, the  Jews  w^ere  very  patriotic,  even  despising 
all  other  nations :  and  the  Prophets  who  wrote 
those  books,  were  very  patriotic,  mourning  over  the 
calamities  of  their  nation  ;  yet  it  is  they  who  record 
their  sins !  Does  not  this  prove  at  least  that  they 
were  candid  and  truthful  men  ?  Would  they  have 
said  such  severe  things  against  their  own  party, 
unless  they  were  sincere  .'* ' 

Mr.  *  * — '  Well,  I  see  that.  They  were  candid 
men.  But  then  the  plagues  of  Egypt !  and  it  is 
said  that  God  hardened  Pharaoh's  heart!' 

N. — 'Just  as  mercies  despised,  do  harm.  It 
was  mercy  to  Pharaoh,  to  remove  the  plagues,  but 
he  abused  it,  and  thus  the  mercy  hardened  him. 
A  kind  father  makes  still  more  callous  the  heart  of 
a  rebellious  child,  by  the  very  tenderness  which 


104  JANUARY    17. 

that  child  rejects.  So,  if  God  sends  us  an  afflic- 
tion, brings  us  near  to  death,  and  then  delivers  us 
from  it,  if  we  do  not  profit  by  the  warning  and  the 
mercy,  we  are  the  worse  for  it.  Thus  God  hard- 
ened Pharaoh's  heart  by  the  very  forbearance  he 
showed  him,  that  is,  Pharaoh  turned  God's  gifts 
into  curses.' 

Mr.  *  * — ^  Well,  I  see  your  meaning.  But  how 
is  it  that  there  is  no  account  in  heathen  writings, 
of  the  miracles  of  Moses?' 

Dr.  G.  had  now  somewhat  revived,  and  though 
his  eyes  continued  closed,  he  had  evidently  over- 
heard the  objection,  for  he  said  in  a  whisper,  '  Do 
you  understand  the  hieroglyphics  ?' 

Mr.  *  *—'  No.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Do  they  contain  no  account  of  them  ?' 

Mr.  *  *—'  I  should  think  not.' 

Dr.  G. — '  But  you  said  just  now  that  you  did  not 
understand  them.     Therefore  you  cannot  know.' 

Dr.  Gordon  was  now  completely  worn  out  with 
the  effort  he  had  made,  and  took  leave  of  Mr.  *  * 
with  a  tender  grasp  of  the  hand,  saying,  with  a 
look  of  deep  and  affectionate  interest,  '  May  God 
bless  you,  Mr.  *  *.' 

Though  the  narrator  has  given  a  faithful  account 
of  what  was  said  during  this  most  instructive  inter- 
view, he  feels  it  is  quite  impossible  to  convey  any 
adequate  idea  of  the  peaceful  composure,  the  happy 
assurance  on  his  own  account,  and  the  tender  soli- 


JANUARY    17.  105 

citude  for  him  whom  he  addressed,  which  charac- 
terized Dr.  Gordon's  manner,  during  the  whole  con- 
versation. It  was  a  scene  never  to  be  forgotten. 
How  infinitely  superior  did  that  philosophy  appear 
which  conducts  to  the  cross  for  knowledge  and  for 
hope,  to  the  scepticism  which  leave '^  its  votary 
nothing  to  rely  on  but  vague  uncertainties,  and 
self-righteousness !  How  touching  the  admission 
of  Mr.  *  *,  in  which  the  reader,  whatever  his 
opinion,  must  surely  unite ;  *  I  would  give  worlds 
to  be  the  remainder  of  my  life  in  the  same  state  of 
mind.' 

Referring  to  this  conversation,  in  the  afternoon. 
Dr.  Gordon  observed — '  They  call  men  learned  and 
clever,  who  have  a  smattering  of  knowledge,  and 
nothing  deep.'  An  aged  Christian  was  spoken  of 
who  thus  replied  to  a  clever  sceptical  opponent : — 
'■  I  have  an  argument  I  defy  all  the  world  to  refute. 
Jesus  Christ  here  in  my  heart,  fills  me  with  peace 
and  joy,  and  enables  me  to  hate  sin  and  love  holi- 
ness. Talk  as  you  like,  you  can  never  shake  me, 
for  I  feel  Him  within  me.'  It  was  observed  that 
this  argument,  though  not  enough  to  convince  the 
sceptic,  was  quite  suflficient  to  support  the  believer. 

Dr.  G. — *  That  is  the  argument.  The  grand  evi- 
dence of  the  gospel,  is  its  adaptation  to  our  w^ants. 
Learned  lectures  on  the  evidences,  I  mean  the  ex- 
ternal, do  little  or  no  good.  Oh !  that  learning  and 
sophistry,  which  call  in  question  the  truth  of  Chris- 


106  ^  JANUARY    17. 

tianity,  it's  all  nothing,  child's  play,  a  thing  for  an 
hour.  I  could  laugh  it  all  to  scorn.  But  the  vo- 
taries of  this  sophistry  are  not  to  be  all  denounced 
as  deriders  of  Christianity.  Many  are  anxious  for 
truth,  and  unable  to  find  it.  They  deserve  pity. 
Intolerance  is  a  curse  to  society.  How  many  things 
there  are,  the  mere  inquiry  concerning  which  would 
cast  a  man  into  the  shade  !  As  for  Mr.  *  *,  I  be- 
lieve he  will  die  a  Christian.' 

An  aged  cottage-saint,  from  Welton,  who  had 
known,  loved,  and  prayed  for  him,  for  more  than 
twenty  years,  made  a  great  effort  in  a  w^eak  state 
of  health,  to  come  and  bid  him  farewell,  and  hear 
from  his  own  lips,  the  answers  to  her  petitions. 
She  brought  him  a  nosegay  of  flowers  from  her 
little  garden,  but  was  too  much  overcome  by  her 
feelings,  to  speak.  He  said  to  her,  ^Pm  nearly 
gone,  but  I'm  happy.  I've  found  it  where  you  al- 
w^ays  told  me  I  should.'  Being  informed,  that  on 
leaving  him,  Mrs.  H.  had  retired  to  another  room, 
where  she  had  been  praying  that  the  gates  of 
Heaven  might  be  open  wide  to  receive  him,  he  re- 
plied— *  That  I'm  sure  they  will.  How  unworthy 
I  am  to  be  loaded  with  so  much  love,  and  have  so 
many  friends !' 

Mr.  R.,  one  of  Dr.  G.'s  tradesmen,  spoke  of  his 
being  the  best  earthly  friend  he  ever  had ;  he  re- 
plied— '  I  am  happy  resting  on  Christ.  That  alone 
can   give   peace.     There    is   nothing   in    myself.* 


JANUARY    17.  107 

Another  said  to  him — '  Every  one  will  miss  a 
friend.  We  all  feel  such  sincere  sorrow.  You 
have  been  so  kind  to  every  one.'  He  answered — 
'  I  am  glad  if  I  have  been  of  service  to  any  one, 
though  nothing  gives  me  satisfaction,  but  having 
Christ.  All  is  imperfect ;  but  He  will  present  me 
to  the  Almighty,  covered  with  His  merits,  and  that 
is  enough.' 

It  being  remarked,  that  he  appeared  somewhat 
better,  he  said,  with  a  peaceful  smile — *  0,  I  hope 
you  will  consider  me  a  dying  man.  But  I  am  in 
the  hands  of  my  Creator.  He  fixed  the  place  and 
hour  of  my  birth  in  that  room,  (pointing  to  a  sketch 
of  Fountains'  Hall,)  and  he  has  fixed  that  of  my 
departure  out  of  it,  and  will  receive  me  in  another. 
I  am  in  his  hand,  and  have  no  desire  but  what  He 
wills !' 

He  spoke  of  the  following  hymn,  composed  by 
one  of  his  family,  to  which  he  listened  with  great 
interest,  as  precisely  expressing  his  own  state  of 
mind  in  reference  to  his  departure: — 

My  times  are  in  Thy  hand ! 

I  know  not  what  a  day 
Or  e'en  an  hour  may  bring  to  me, 
But  I  am  safe  while  trusting  Thee, 
Though  all  things  fade  away. 
All  weakness,  I 
On  Him  rely 
Who  fixed  the  earth,  and  spread  the  starry  sky. 


108  JANUARY    17. 

My  times  are  in  Thy  hand ! 

Pale  poverty,  or  wealth, 
Corroding  care  or  calm  repose, 
Spring's  balmy  breath,  or  winter's  snows. 
Sickness  or  buoyant  health — 
Whate'er  betide, 
If  God  provide, 
'Tis  for  the  best — I  wish  no  lot  beside. 

My  times  in  Thy  hand ! 

Should  friendship  pure  illume. 
And  strew  my  path  with  fairest  flowers, 
Or  should  I  spend  life's  dreary  hours 
In  solitude's  dark  gloom. 
Thou  art  a  Friend, 
Till  time  shall  end. 

Unchangeably  the  same, — in  Thee  all  beauties 
blend. 

My  times  are  in  Thy  hand ! 

Many  or  few  my  days, 
I  leave  with  Thee — this  only  pray, 
That  by  Thy  grace,  I,  every  day 
Devoting  to  Thy  praise, 
May  ready  be 
To  welcome  Thee, 
Whene'er  Thou  com'st  to  set  my  spirit  free. 

My  times  are  in  Thy  hand ! 

Howe'er  those  times  may  end. 
Sudden,  or  slow  my  soul's  release. 
Midst  anguish,  phrenzy,  or  in  peace, 
I'm  safe  with  Christ  my  Friend  ! 
If  He  is  nigh, 
Howe'er  I  die, 
'Twill  be  the  dawn  of  Heavenly  ecstacy. 


JANUARY    17.  109 

My  times  are  in  Thy  hand ! 

To  Thee  I  can  entrust 
My  slumbering  clay,  till  Thy  command, 
Bids  all  the  dead  before  Thee  stand, 
Awaking  from  the  dust. 
Beholding  Thee, 
What  bliss  'twill  be 
With  all  Thy  saints  to  spend  eternity  ! 

To  spend  eternity 

In  Heaven's  unclouded  light ! 
From  sorrow,  sin,  and  frailty  free, 
Beholding  and  resembling  Thee — 
O  too  transporting  sight ! 
Prospect  too  fair 
For  flesh  to  bear, 

Haste !  haste,  my  Lord,  and  soon  transport  me 
there ! 

It  was  worthy  of  remark,  in  his  numerous  con- 
versations, how  emphatic  was  the  testimony  borne 
by  Dr.  G.  to  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  Evangelical 
Religion.  Studying  the  Bible  for  himself,  without 
reference  to  any  theological  school,  and  making  no 
man's  creed  his  standard,  the  result,  expressed  in 
diction  free  from  the  phraseology  of  system,  was  the 
clearest  testimony  to  the  doctrines  of  man's  guilt 
and  utter  inability  to  save  himself;  the  need  of  a 
better  righteousness  than  his  own ;  the  love  of  the 
Father,  manifested  in  the  vicarious  sacrifice  of  the 
Son  ;  the  necessity  of  the  renewing  influences  of 
the  Holy  Spirit ;  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  and  perfec 

10 


110  JANUARY    18. 

peace  as  a  result  of  entire  dependence  on  Christ. 
It  \vas  especially  observed,  whenever  his  benevo- 
lent actions  were  referred  to,  as  they  were  most 
gralefally,  by  many  who  visited  him,  how  emphati- 
cally he  declared  his  sense  of  unworthiness,  and  his 
reliance  on  the  Saviour  alone. 

Thursday,  18th.  On  awakmg,  he  said — ^  I've 
had  a  very  happy  night ;  brighter  visions  than  ever 
of  the  happy  land.'  His  attached  servant  and  nurse 
said — 'How  I  wish  to  be  you.  I  am  full  of  fear  of 
nnt  continuing  faithful.'  He  replied — '  There  is 
nothing  to  fear  if  you  keep  close  to  Jesus.  I'll  tell 
you  what  I  did.  I  went  jTervently  to  Him,  and  took 
all  my  sins  and  cares,  my  heart  full,  and  left  all  at 
the  cross,  and  sweet  peace  follow^ed.  It's  such  love ' 
But  remember,  constant  watching  is  necessary. 
Thus  go  to  Christ,  and  you  have  nothing  else  to  do. 
It  is  all  done  for  you.  0  what  a  night  I've  had  ! 
such  happiness!  I  cannot  describe  it.  Whe^  I 
fall  asleep  and  when  I  awake  it's  always  there. 
How  wonderful!' 

On  being  told  he  seemed  a  little  better,  he  said  • 
'  Yes,  but  my  disease  is  progressing.  However, 
I  have  no  wish  of  my  own.  But  I  feel  I  am  a 
long  way  on  my  journey,  after  many  struggles 
and  many  difficulties,  and  I  long  to  be  with  my 
Saviour.' 

To  one  of  his  tra  les'nen,  who,  in  bidding  him 
farewell,  told    him    with  tears    of  the  love  which 


JANUARY    18.  Ill 

people  bore  to  him,  he  said—'  I  like  to  be  loved, 
and  live  in  the  memories  and  affections  of  men.  I 
have  tried  to  love  them,  for  we  are  all  brethren.  I 
am  very  happy.  Hold  fast  to  Jesus — that's  every 
thing.  I  am  sorry  you  were  inconvenienced  by 
calling  when  I  was  asleep,  but  you  see  invalids  can- 
not control  their  own  time.'  This  is  only  one  illus- 
tration out  of  many,  of  his  polite  and  minute 
attention  to  others.  Nothing  was  done  for  him, 
however  trivial,  which  he  did  not,  in  the  kindest 
manner  acknowledge  ;  and  he  frequently  expressed 
his  regret  for  any  inconvenience  and  trouble,  which 
he  feared  might  be  occasioned  to  his  attendants  or 
visitors. 

In  the  evening,  the  conversation  turned  on  various 
methods  of  doing  good.  Dr.  G.  remarked — '  There 
can  be  no  greater  good  than  doing  good  to  the  soul. 
It  is  every  thing.  This  would  be  my  delight,  were 
I  to  recover.'  It  was  observed,  that  much  more 
good  would  be  done,  if  preaching  the  gospel  were 
not  so  exclusively  confined  to  ministers.  It  is  re- 
garded too  much  as  merely  official,  and' thus  the 
impression  of  earnestness  is  weakened.  A  single 
word  from  a  Physician  to  a  sick  man,  would  often 
have  much  more  effect  than  the  visit  of  a  minister, 
which  is  expected  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  bear  a 
religious  aspect.  It  being  said,  that  though  Phy- 
sicians have  great  opportunities  of  usefulness,  they 
would  injure  their  practice  by  speaking  of  religion 


112  JANUARY    19. 

except  with  the  poor  ;  Dr.  G.  observed — '  No  !  the 
injudicious  manner  might,  but  not  the  thing  itself. 
And  if  it  did !' 

Friday,  19th.  Baxters's  'Last  work  of  a  Believer,' 
was  one  of  the  books  he  took  great  pleasure  in  lis- 
tening to.  The  following  sentence  which  occurred 
in  reading  this  morning,  much  struck  his  mind  : — 
*  Did  Christ  himself  on  the  cross  commend  his  spirit 
into  his  Father's  hands,  and  will  he  not  receive  thy 
spirit,  when  thou  at  death  commendest  it  to  him  ?' 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  he  said — *  I  see 
where  Christians  are  wrong.  We  do  not  make  a 
companion  of  God.  We  should  treat  him  more  as 
a  friend,  but  not  as  a  distant  friend,  but  as  always 
near,  close  to  us,  so  that  we  are  never  alone,  but 
continually  in  his  company.'  This  was  a  topic  to 
which  he  frequently  reverted.  Religion  is  too  much 
separated  from  ordinary  affairs.  The  special  sea- 
sons for  w^orship  are  too  distinct  from  their  inter- 
vening periods.  Such  seasons  are  necessary,  but 
should  never  be  substituted  for  a  life  of  prayer. 
x\ll  things  ought  to  be  done  religiously.  God  may 
be  worshipped  in  the  shop,  the  field,  the  ship,  the 
exchange,  and  not  merely  in  the  Church,  The  or- 
dinary doings  of  daily  life,  however  insignificant  in 
themselves,  may  be  elevated  into  solemn  acts  of 
worship,  by  being  performed  in  a  religious  spirit. 
Thus,  the  professional  man,  the  merchant,  the  trades- 
man, the  mechanic,  in  their  ordinary  engagements. 


JANUARY    19.  113 

may,  no  less  than  the  clergyman,  when  visiting"  the 
sick,  and  studying  the  Bible,  and  preaching  the 
gospel,  "  walk  with  God." 

Dr.  Arnold  well  observes, — '  The  true  and  grand 
idea  of  a  church,  i.  e.  a  society  for  the  purpose  of 
making  men  like  Christ,  earth  like  heaven,  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world,  the  kingdoms  of  Christ;  all 
is  lost,  and  men  look  upon  it  as  an  institution  for 
religious  instruction  and  religious  worship,  thus  rob- 
bing it  of  its  life  and  universality,  making  it  an  affair 
of  clergy,  not  of  people  ;  of  preaching  and  ceremo- 
nies, not  of  living  ;  of  Sundays  and  synagogues, 
instead  of  one  of  all  days,  and  all  places,  houses, 
streets,  towns,  and  countries.' 

Dr.  G.  remarked — '  It  is  the  having  God  with  me 
as  my  companion,  which  has  made  me  so  happy. 
i  dislike  to  sleep,  because  I  lose  the  enjoyment.  O 
to  think  I  could  ever  have  had  a  care  when  there 
was  a  God  in  the  world  !  How  wonderful !  How 
wrong  I  have  been !  "  Behold  the  lilies  of  the 
field,  how  they  grow,  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they 
spin  ;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon 
in  all  his  glory,  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these. 
Wherefore,  if  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field, 
which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven^ 
shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  0  ye  of  little 
faith!"  Ah!  I  did  not  understand  that  before.  But 
I  do  now.  How  false  are  the  judgments  of  the 
10* 


114  JANUARY  19. 

world  !  Many  would  pity  me.  They  don't  know 
how  happy  I  am.' 

One  of  his  physicians,  having  called  when  he  felt 
faint  in  consequence  of  having  just  awaked  from  a 
short  sleep,  remarked  that  the  day  was  dull,  and 
depressed  the  feelings.  He  replied  emphatically — 
'  Never  mine  !  it's  a  very  delightful  day  !' 

He  requested  the  following  beautiful  hymn  of 
George  Herbert's  to  be  frequently  read,  his  admi- 
ration of  which,  emphatically  showed  how  well 
grounded  he  was  in  the  great  truth — ^  by  the  grace 
of  God  I  am  \vhat  I  am.' 

THE  HOLD-FAST. 

I  threatened  to  observe  the  strict  decree 

Of  my  dear  God,  with  all  my  power  and  might : 

But  I  was  told  by  one,  it  could  not  be ; 
Yet  I  might  trust  in  God  to  be  my  light. 

I 
Then  will  I  trust,  said  I,  in  Him  alone. 

Nay,  e'en  to  trust  in  him,  was  also  his : 

We  must  confess  that  nothing  is  our  own. 

Then  I  confess  that  He  my  succour  is. 

But  to  have  nought  is  ours,  not  to  confess 

That  we  have  nought.     I  stood  amazed  at  this, 

Much  troubled,  till  I  heard  a  friend  express, 
That  all  things  were  more  ours  by  being  His. 

What  Adam  had,  and  forfeited  for  all, 

Christ  keepeth  now,  who  cannot  fail  or  fall. 


JANUARY   20.  115 

Saturday,  20.  The  evening  ol  this  day  was  felt 
by  all  to  be  a  peculiarly  interesting  season,  as  it 
recalled  the  alarming  seizure  of  the  preceding 
week,  and  the  unexpected  mercies  we  had  enjoyed 
in  such  delightful  intercourse  with  our  beloved 
Friend,  during  the  seven  days  he  had  been  spared 
to  us.  In  reference  to  this,  he  said, '  I  thought  I 
should  have  been  taken  from  you.  We  have  had 
many  mercies.  What  a  glorious  week  it  has  been, 
the  happiest  I  ever  spent.  The  world  cannot  com- 
prehend it.  I  now  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
passage,  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nei- 
ther have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him, 
but  God  hath  revealed  them  unto  us,  by  his  Spirit  /" 
One  of  his  friends  bidding  him  good  night,  with 
the  wish  that  he  might  have  pleasant  thoughts, 
he  replied, — *  Those  I  am  sure  to  have.  I  am  never 
afraid  of  the  nights.' 


CHAPTER    VII. 

FROM    SUNDAY,    JAN.    21,    TO    SUNDAY,    JAN.    28. 

CHRISTIAN       JOY — CEMETERY — ETERNITY        NOT       ENTERED 
ALONE — MYSTERIES — CHRISTIANS  NOT  POOR — VALLEY  OF 

THE    SHADOW    OF    DEATH 'BE    GREAT    AND     SEEK    LITTLE 

things' OPINIONS     ON     OTHER     SUBJECTS     UNCHANGED — 

LIFE  OF  DR.  HOPE TEE-TOTALISIVI DIGNITY,  SAFETY  AND 

JOY   OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 

Although  it  would  have  seemed  scarcely  possible, 
yet  Dr.  Gordon  was  evidently  still  more  emaciated 
than  he  was  the  preceding  week.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  occasional  rallyings  which  took  place,  it 
was  obvioTis  that  the  disease  was  steadily  advan- 
cing, but  while  his  little  remaining  strength  became 
gradually  less,  and  the  outer  man  was  perishing,  it 
was  delightful  to  witness  how  the  "  inner  man  was 
renewed  day  by  day."  Two  verses,  on  which  he 
earnestly  commented  in  the  course  of  reading,  well 
illustrated  his  own  experience  of  "  perfect  peace," 
and  "joy  unspeakable,"  as  the  result  of  simple  re- 
liance on  the  Saviour.  "  The  Lord  is  my  strength 
and  my  shield,  my  heart  trusted  in  Him,  and  I  am 
helped  ;  therefore  my  heart  greatly  rejoiceth,  and 

116 


JANUARY   21.  117 

with  my  song  will  I  praise  Him.  Our  heart  shall 
rejoice  in  Him,  because  we  have  trusted  in  His 
holy  name."     Psalm  xxviii.  7;  xxxiii.  21. 

This  was  a  topic  on  which  he  delighted  to  dwell. 
He  wondered  why  Christians  were  not  always  re- 
joicing. He  saw  throughout  the  Bible  the  same 
great  truth,  that  simple  reliance  on  God,  is  the 
means  of  attaining  to  spiritual  joy.  He  said — '  To 
believe  that  God  loves  us,  washes  us  to  love  Him, 
and  does  everything  to  make  us  love  Him,  to  regard 
Him  as  a  Friend,  a  Brother,  a  Father,  this  must 
make  us  happy.  As  to  doubts  and  fears,  I  could 
not  have  any.  I  might  have  many  if  I  looked  to 
myself,  but  this  is  impossible,  if  I  look  to  my 
Saviour.  I  have  often  been  surprised  that  Chris- 
tians seemed  to  be  made  so  little  happy  by  their  re- 
ligion. The  reason  is,  they  have  looked  for  happi- 
ness to  w^hat  is  in  themselves,  instead  of  to  what  is 
in  Christ.  And  looking  to  him  is  the  best  source 
of  holy  living.  And  then,  if  this  Salvation  w^ere 
only  offered  to  a  few,  or  to  those  who  had  com- 
mitted only  trifling  sins, — peccadilloes,  and  had 
lived  moral  lives,  there  would  be  room  for  doubt, 
but  it's  so  full  and  free,  and  offered  to  all,  to  the 
very  worst,  to  every  one  !' 

Being  told  that  he  looked  low  and  dull,  he  said, 
'  I  don't  feel  so.  I'm  weak,  but  perfectly  happy.' 
It  was  necessary  that  he  should  alw^ays  be  in  a  re- 
clining attitude,  as  an  erect  position  might  cause 


118  JANUARY   21. 

immediate  death.  Being  asked  if  he  did  not  long 
to  sit  up  a  little  in  his  easy  chair,  he  answered — '  I 
am  resigned  to  the  will  of  God,  and  have  not  a  de- 
sire of  my  own.'  Referring  to  trials  of  temper,  he 
urged  the  importance  of  making  Christ  our  model 
It  was  suggested  that  Job  was  a  most  patient  man, 
and  yet  uttered  irritable  words  under  provocation. 
Dr.  G.  rejoined — '  Nay,  w^e  must  not  look  to  Job, 
but  ask  how  Christ  would  act.' 

About  midnight,  waking  very  faint,  after  a  short 
sleep,  his  wife,  children,  and  niece,  being  at  his 
bed-side,  he  said,  '  I  think  I  am  sinking.  I  feel 
the  powers  of  nature  giving  way.'  Then,  looking 
most  affectionately  at  each,  he  added — '  I  think  I 
have  said  all  I  wished  to  say.'  Then,  after  a  pause 
— *  I'm  so  glad  they  have  made  the  cemetery  a 
garden  for  my  body  to  rest  in,  with  ail  the  beauti- 
ful flowers  about.'  The  conversation  then  turned 
on  the  meaning  of  the  word  cemetery,  Konxjimpiov,  sleep- 
ing place,  and  the  application  of  this  term  in  the 
New  Testament  to  the  Christian's  death  :  "  Our 
friend  Lazarus  sleepeth^  but  I  go  to  awake  him  out 
of  sleep."  ^^  Them  also  w^ho  sleep  in  Jesus,  will 
God  bring  with  Him."  In  reference  to  his  ap- 
proaching dissolution  it  was  observed — '  This  is 
what  we  must  all  come  to.'  He  responded  empha- 
tically— '  Must  all  come  to !  Christians  should 
look  forward  to  it  with  joy.'  It  was  remarked, 
that  some  persons  dreaded   death  very  much,  be- 


JANUARY   21.  119 

cause  they  must  go  forth  alone  into  the  eternal 
world,  with  none  of  their  friends  to  accompany  and 
cheer  them.  Dr.  G. — '  Ah,  but  I  shall  not  be 
alone  ;  Christ  is  my  companion,  my  friend,  my 
brother!'  He  was  reminded  how,  when  we  had 
been  absent  from  home,  he  had  always  made  some 
kind  preparation  to  surprise  and  please  us  on  our 
return,  and  how  he  was  always  waiting  to  welcome 
us.  Thus  Christ  was  preparing  for  him  and  would 
be  ready  to  receive  him.  Dr.  G. — '  He  accompa7iies 
me  on  my  journey !  how  w^onderful  to  receive  me 
there,  one  who  has  so  rebelled  against  him  !' 

Monday,  Jan.  22.  He  said  at  different  times,  '- 1 
am  gradually  sinking,  but  I  am  very  happy.  I 
have  had  such  a  peaceful  night.  I  marvel  at  my- 
self, that  when  in  health  I  should  have  been  so 
anxious  about  worldly  things,  and  thought  so  little 
of  what  was  to  be  had  so  superior.  I  have  always 
had  a  respect  for  religion,  and  when  at  school  at 
Ripon,  attended  the  Cathedral  wuth  pleasure  ;  but 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  true  way.  0  blind,  blind, 
blind  ! — Make  God  your  friend^  and  don't  look  on 
him  as  a  God  afar  off — but  as  loving  you  and  de- 
termining that  you  shall  be  saved.  I  think  he  has 
almost  gone  out  of  his  way  to  save  me.  He  has 
g;iven  me  blow  after  blow,  and  his  means  have  been 
so  especially  adapted  to  my  case.  When  at  Scar- 
borough I  had  something  of  this  peace,  but  mixed 


120  JANUARY    22. 

with  doubts  and  fears,  and  often  with  a  hope  of 
getting  better.' 

The  mystery  of  redemption  being  referred  to,  he 
said,  '  Aye,  mystery,  every  thing  is  mystery,  but 
reason  no  more.  What  a  mercy  that  I  enjoy  this 
peace  !'  It  was  suggested  that  his  non-nervous 
temperament  was  in  his  favour  ;  he  replied — '  Yes, 
but  I  am  weak  enough  now  to  experience  all  that 
nervous  people  feel,  if  He  did  not  give  me  His 
peace.' 

To  Mr.  R.  and  Mr.  V. — '  The  last  w^eek  has  been 
happier  than  I  could  have  conceived.  We  must 
leave  reasoning.  I  have  read  all  books  on  the  sub- 
ject, ancient  and  modern.  You  may  tell  the  men 
who  pride  themselves  on  their  learning,  that  it's  all 
nothing.  We  must  come  simply  to  Christ.  Chris- 
tians look  too  much  to  themselves.  Look  to  Him, 
and  there's  no  fear. — We  must  not  think  of  God  as 
a  great  Being  to  be  gone  to  sometimes,  but  make 
Him  a  companion.  He  wishes  it.  He  has  done 
everything  to  bring  sinners  to  Him.  But  it  is 
beyond  reason.  There's  a  better  evidence  than 
argument.  It  is  here.  No  one  could  shake  my 
belief.' 

In  conversation  with  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  An- 
derson, W.S.,  of  Edinburgh,  who  had  spoken  of 
eternity  as  incomprehensible,  he  said — '  All  things 
are  incomprehensible,  yet  we  presume  to  reason 
about  religion.     We  know  not  what  an  infinitesi- 


JANUARY    22.  121 

mal  atom  of  matter  is.  We  can  conceive  of  its  in- 
finite division,  and  yet  every  particle  must  have  an 
upper  and  an  under  side.  Neither  do  we  under- 
stand matter  in  its  larger  bulks — the  immense 
globes— and  so  numerous  !  We  know  not  the  end 
of  space  nor  the  end  of  time.  We  know  nothing-. 
We  see  with  a  very  contracted  view,  and  yet  we 
reason  !  We  must  come  to  the  Bible  as  little  chi]» 
dren,  then  we  shall  know  !  We  must  trust  as  little 
children,  then  we  shall  not  live  in  dread.  How 
strange  that  Christians  should  be  afraid  of  diseases, 
accidents  by  railway,  and  such  things,  when  Goil 
is  always  with  them  !' 

Mr.  A.  referred  to  St.  Paul's  conversion  as  re- 
markably illustrating  the  extraordinary  way  in 
which  God  sometimes  arrests  sinners  in  order  to  save 
them. 

Dr.  G. — ^  Magna  componere  parvis,  that  is  my 
case.  God  seemed  determined  to  save  me,  and,  if 
I  may  so  speak,  has  been  running  after  me,  God 
wishes  us  to  dwell  in  the  world  with  Him.  He  is 
always  asking  us  to  join  Him,  yet  we  refuse  !  Ah  ! 
we  are  foolish  beings !  "  He  willeth  not  the  death 
of  a  sinner,  but  rather  that  he  may  turn  from  his 
wickedness,  and  live."  I  am  never  alone,  by  night 
or  by  day,  my  companion  is  always  with  me.  As 
to  what  some  say,  of  my  possible  recovery,  how 
true  are  the  words  of  Milman  : 


11 


122  JANUARY   23. 

"  It  matters  little  at  what  hour  of  the  day 
The  rig-Iiteous  fall  asleep — death  cannot  come 
To  him  untimely  who  is  fit  to  die — 
'    The  less  of  this  cold  world,  the  more  of  heaven  ; 
The  briefer  life,  the  earlier  immortality." 

Tuesday,  January  23.  During  the  night,  Dr.  G- 
nad  suffered  severely  from  a  morbidly  voracious 
appetite.  Though  greatly  enfeebled  in  the  morning, 
and  scarcely  able  to  whisper,  he  exerted  himself  to 
speak  to  the  numerous  visitors  who  came  to  see  him. 
The  following  conversation  took  place  : 

R.— '  We  often  talk  of  you.' 

Dr.  G. — 'Talk  of  the  goodness  of  God  to  me.' 

R. — '  How  are  we  to  obtain  such  strong  faith  ?' 

Dr.  G. — '  It  is  here — we  must  become  as  children. 
I  did  not  understand  that  once.  Only  God  could 
make  me  understand  it.  My  affliction  has  been 
sent  for  this.  But,  how^  I  murmured  !  I've  been  a 
stubborn  child !  I  wonder  that  Christians  are  not 
always  happy.' 

N. — '  Our  faith  is  so  w^eak,  and  as  you  say,  we  do 
not  make  a  companion  of  God.  But  in  Heaven  he 
will  be  always  near  us.' 

Dr.  G. — '  He  is  always  near  us  now.  Believe 
this,  and  it  will  make  you  happy." 

R. — ^  I  wish  I  had  such  faith  !' 

Dr.  G. — ^  The  way  is,  think  nothing  about  your- 
self. Give  yourself  to  Him  entirely  ;  it  is  what  He 
wishes.     Then  you  will  have  perfect  peace.     But 


JANUARY    24.  123 

we  must  yield  ourselves  as  children,  and  not  reason. 
I  have  sent  messages  to  my  friends,  not  to  trust  in 
themselves  any  longer.  I  have  read  and  thought 
andtrusted  to  human  wisdom,  but  0  it  is  very  foolish. 
I  am  thankful  I  did  not  first  know  this  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  my  weakness.  It  has  been  weeks, 
weeks  !  At  first  I  rebelled  at  the  affliction.  0,  the 
blindness !     I  did  not  see  what  it  was  for.' 

To  a  poor  woman  who  said  she  hoped  God  would 
reward  him  for  all  his  kindness,  he  earnestly  replied  : 
'  I  have  no  merits  of  my  own.  .  I  must  look  for  all 
in  Christ.     Seek  Him" 

Just  before  closing  his  eyes  for  sleep  he  ex- 
claimed— '  0  my  God,  how  good  hast  thou  been  to 
me  !  I  will  praise  Thee  !  What  peace  hast  Thou 
given  me !  How  different  it  might  have  been ! 
iVnd  what  kind  friends  !' 

Wednesday,  January  24.  To  Sir  W.  L.— '  I 
wonder  whether,  in  case  I  were  to  live,  these  happy 
views  would  continue?  I  don't  understand  why 
they  should  not.  What  fools  men  are  for  caring  so 
much  for  the  world.  Should  I  live,  and  ever  be- 
come a  poor  man,  never  think  me  poor  ;  I  shall  be 
rich.  God  is  my  friend.  There  is  majesty  in  such 
a  possession.     There's  poor ,*  what  a  fool  was 

*  He  referred  to  a  Danish  gentleman  who,  for  conscience' 
sake,  had  been  obliged  to  come  to  England,  and  though  en- 
tirely destitute,  with  no  prospect  of  employment,  was  per- 
fectly happy,  expressing  the  fullest  confidence  that  'his  Father 
would  provide  for  him.' 


124  JANUARY    25. 

I!  I  looked  at  him  as  a  fanatic.  But  I  don't  now 
He's  a  rich  man.  Never  call  him  poor  again. 
What  folly  there  is  in  seeking  money  !  The  care  to 
get  at  it,  and  then  the  care  to  keep  it !  The  abject 
degradation  of  it ! — And  to  think  Christians  should 
be  afraid  of  accidents  with  such  a  Friend  !  I  used 
to  be  astonished  at  the  great  affection  some  people 
felt  for  ministers  and  others  who  had  been  of  use  in 
their  conversion.  I'm  not  surprised  now.  1  feel  so 
much  more  love  to  all  my  friends.  You've  been 
helpers  to  me  in  many  ways.'  He  was  asked 
whether  we  had  done  right  in  not  more  personally 
urging  the  subject  of  religion  upon  him.  Dr.  G. — 
'  You  have  done  right.  Mine  was  a  peculiar  dis- 
position. Direct  reference  would  have  done  harm. 
I  have  been  disgusted  with  some  Christians  by  their 
mode  of  speaking.  You  have  known  my  disposi- 
tion and  acted  suitably  to  it.  You  have  preached  to 
me  in  the  best  way.     It  was  the  right  course.' 

Thursday,  January  25.  After  a  disturbed  night, 
he  was  much  exhausted  ;  this  he  regretted,  as  ^  in- 
terrupting his  happy  thoughts.'  He  said — '  I'm 
farther  from  earth,  and  nearer  to  Heaven.'  Some 
passages  from  Isaiah  being  read,  he  commented  with 
much  feeling  on  the  gracious  assurance — "  I,  even 
I,  am  He  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgressions  for  my 
own  sake  !" 

To  his  family,  who  were  sitting  at  his  bed-side, 
he  said — '  What  joy  I  have  had  !  no  one  can  de- 


JANUARY   25.  125 

scribe  it!  I  have  often  told  you,  when  in  great 
pain,  that  I  could  not  have  conceived  any  human 
being  could  suffer  so  much.  I  am  sure  I  may  now 
say  I  could  not  conceive  any  human  being  could 
enjoy  so  much !  And  to  compare  these  pleasures 
with  the  pleasures  of  the  world !  0,  how  foolish  ! 
I  have  seen  all  grades  of  life,  but  I  never  found  full 
satisfaction,  because  I  had  not  got  the  pearl.  I 
honoured  Christianity;  thinking  it  a  great  and  noble 
thing,  but  I  did  not  feel  it.  What  a  difference! 
Now  I  feel  God  is  my  friend ;  Christ  has  covered 
my  sins,  I  am  fit  for  heaven.  I  could  not  dread 
danger  and  death.  But  this  is  not  to  be  had  by 
reasoning.  How  true  that  saying  is — "  Except  ye 
become  as  little  children,  ye  cannot  enter  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  !"  But  directly  we  come  as  children, 
we  obtain  everything  we  need.  I  never  disbelieved — 
but  I  did  not  feel  as  I  now  do,  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  the  gospel !  What  a  proof  of  its  truth, 
that  it  can  produce  such  a  change,  and  give  me  such 
feelings !  How  its  author  must  have  know^n  the 
heart !  Is  not  this  the  best  proof  that  it  is  from 
God  ?  How  could  man  have  invented  a  system 
w^hich  could  do  such  things?' 

On  his  remarking — *  I  wonder  any  one  should 
call  death  the  dark  valley,  it  is  no  dark  valley  to 
me,' — he  was  reminded  that  Bunyan  in  his  Alle- 
gory, represented  a  state  of  fierce  mental  conflict, 
as  the  shadow  of  death,  w'hile  the  approach  to  the 
11* 


126  JANUARY    25. 

river,  was  through  the  land  of  Beulah,  a  region  of 
beauty  and  bliss.  To  this  he  fully  assented,  for 
truly  it  was  in  such  a  manner  he  was  approaching 
the  end  of  his  journey  ;  even  through  '  ImmanuePs 
ground,'  which  angels  visit,  where  the  distant 
songs  of  the  celestial  city  are  heard,  and  w^hence  its 
glittering  walls  may  be  clearly  descried.  Not  a 
cloud  intercepted  the  clear  sunshine.  By  night  and 
by  day,  whether  at  ease,  or  suffering  pain,  his  song 
w^as  ever  of  mercy,  and  his  confidence  in  the  Re- 
deemer unshaken. 

To  his  nephew  A.  A. — '  My  boy,  I  love  you 
dearly,  and  I  love  your  father :  he  is  a  good  and 
honourable  man  ;  take  his  advice.  Young  minds 
are  easily  led  astray.  Seek  Christ  early.  There's 
no  happiness  in  anything  else.  Don't  care  about 
argumentative  books  on  religion.  Your  poor  uncle 
Gordon  has  been  taken  up  with  controversy  all  his 
life,  and  it  w^on't  do,  there's  nothing  in  it.  Take 
the  Scriptures  as  they  are,  and  any  simple  religious 
book  you  like,  the  simpler  the  better.' 

A.  A. — '  A  poor  woman  stopped  me  at  the  door 
to  ask  after  you ;  she  was  very  poor,  almost  a 
betyojar.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  I  am  very  much  obliged'to  her.  Hike 
to  be  remembered  by  the  poor  much  better  than  by 
the  rich.  I  love  my  rich  friends,  and  am  very  grate- 
ful for  their  kind  attentions,  but  the  poor  are  my 
flock.     I  never  courted  the  rich.     Love  the  poor. 


JANUARY   25.  127 

^ 

Be.  great,    and  seek   little    things,  don't   be 
little  and  seek  great  things.' 

This  was  very  striking  and  characteristic.  Though 
no  one  was  better  qualified  than  Dr.  Gordon,  to  as- 
sociate with  the  wealthier  and  more  refined  classes, 
or  possessed  tastes  more  in  harmony  with  all  that 
is  courteous  and  cultivated,  yet  he  saw  so  much 
hollowness  often  concealed  beneath  a  fashionable 
exterior,  that  he  had  learned  to  estimate  the  sterling 
excellences  of  the  mind  and  heart,  though  devoid 
of  any  external  polish,  far  more  than  is  generally 
the  case  with  those  who  move  in  the  upper  ranks  of 
society.  He  had  become  increasingly  alive  to  the 
intrinsic  littleness  of  those  distinctions  of  birth,  title, 
property,  and  rank,  on  which,  however  unconnected 
with  genuine  excellences,  so  many  pride  themselves, 
and  which  the  world  at  large  generally  regard  with 
envy.  To  be  supremely  anxious  to  be  thought  re- 
spectable, fashionable,  great,  and  to  be  ashamed  of 
tlie  poor  man  because  of  his  poverty,  or  of  any  truth 
because  denounced  vulgar,  he  regarded  as  an  evi- 
dence of  real  littleness.  On  the  other  hand,  he  con- 
sidered it  truly  great  to  dare  to  seek,  and  espouse, 
despite  the  scorn  of  the  fashionable  world,  whatever 
the  judgment  of  truth  and  love  may  commend. 
The  cause  of  the  poor,  of  liberty,  virtue,  peace, 
and  social  progress  has  been  often  treated  with  con- 
tempt by  the  worldly  great.  Christianity  was  once 
so  regarded.     Genuine  piety  is  so  still ;  but  yet  how 


128  JANUARY   25. 

great  are  these  little  things!  how  contemptible 
those  great  ones  !  Most  fully  did  Dr.  G.  act  up  to 
his  own  advice — 'be  great  and  seek  little  things.' 

Referring  to  the  remark,  that  he  had  been  too 
much  taken  up  with  controversy,  he  was  asked  by 
the  writer,  w^hether  his  present  feelings  on  religion, 
had  altered  his  views  respecting  the  political  en- 
gagements of  his  former  life ;  and  whether  by  the 
term  controversy,  he  alluded  to  those  occupations. 
lie  answered — '  Certainly  not ;  only  to  controversy 
on  the  truth  of  religion,  instead  of  receiving  it  as  a 
child.  Weie  I  to  recover,  I  should  do  as  I  have 
done  in  those  respects,  only  more  enthusiastically 
than  evej',  as  the  cause  of  truth  and  human  happi- 
ness. I  hope  nothing  I  have  said  can  give  any 
other  impression.' 

This  is  very  important,  as  increasing  the  strength 
of  his.  religious  testimony,  which  would  have  been 
less  valuable,  had  all  his  conclusions  on  other  topics 
been  shaken.  It  might  have  been  said  that  bodily 
debility  had  affected  his  mind,  that  he  thought  mor- 
bidly on  every  point,  and,  therefore,  that  little  could 
be  deduced  from  the  confessions  he  made  of  a  reli- 
gious nature.  But  the  perfect  composure  he  main- 
tained throughout  his  illness,  the  calmness  with 
w^hich  he  always  spoke,  the  deep  conviction  he  re- 
tained of  the  truth  of  those  principles  he  had  so  long 
studied  and  advocated — this  made  the  more  em- 
phatic the  striking  testimony  he  bore  to  the  great 


JANUARY  26.  12» 

truths  of  the  gospel,  and  to  the  necessity  of  recei- 
ving it  as  a  little  child.  Even  to  within  a  few 
hours  of  his  death,  incidents  were  occurring  which 
brought  out  the  characteristic  features  of  his  mind, 
and  showed  them  to  be  elevated  indeed,  and  illu- 
mined b}'  his  exalted  devotion  and  strong  religious 
faith,  but  not  changed. 

Friday,  Jan.  26.  Being  told  of  many  persons 
of  affluence  calling  to  inquire  after  him,  he  asked — 
'  And  what  poor  have  called  ?  The  rich  are  very 
•kind,  but  the  poor  are  my  flock.'  This  led  him  to 
remark  on  the  truth  of  the  declaration — "  To  the 
poor  the  gospel  is  preached ;"  observing  that  their 
circumstances  in  life  disposed  them  to  receive  a 
message  of  such  consolation ;  that  their  freedom 
from  the  bondage  of  fashion  gave  them  many  ad- 
vantages which  its  votaries  did  not  possess  ;  and 
that  they  were  free  from  the  pride  of  learning  and 
reasoning  w^hich  hindered  others  in  the  reception  of 
a  faith  requiring  child-like  simplicity  in  its  disci- 
ples, and  demanding  that  "  the  wise  should  become 
as  fools,"  in  order  that  they  might  be  truly  wise. 
Such  a  system,  he  said,  was  too  grand  and  vast  to 
have  ever  been  made  out  by  man's  reasoning ;  it 
could  have  come  only  from  God. 

On  awaking,  in  considerable  pain,  he  said — 
*  Pray  for  me,  that  God  may  soon  release  me.  It 
is  no  doubt  the  best,  that  I  should  remain  a  little. 
but  I  hope  it  won't  be  long.'     Then,  observing  thn^ 


130  JANUARY  26.  , 

it  was  a  bright  sunny  morning,  he  said — ^  How 
glad  I  shall  be  to  lie  in  that  beautiful  cemetery. 
How  lovely  it  must  be  there  this  morning.  But 
when  it  rains  it  will  be  all  the  same  to  me.'  A 
letter  being  read  from  an  old  and  dear  friend, 
stating  that  though  extremely  ill,  he  would  endea- 
vour to  come  again  to  see  him,  Dr.  G.  said — '  Tell 
him  not  to  come.  I  can  feel  for  him.  I  take  the 
will  for  the  deed.     We  shall  meet  in  Heaven.' 

*  The  Life  of  Dr.  Hope,'  deeply  interested  him. 
So  remarkable  was  the  correspondence  between 
many  of  their  feelings,  that  the  following  extracts, 
among  many  others  which  might  be  made,  seemed 
as  though  written  to  describe  his  own  case  : — 

^'  It  is  very  commonly  said,  that  illness  is  pecu- 
liarly distressing  to  medical  men,  because  they  see 
their  own  symptoms,  and,  agitated  by  conflicting 
hopes  and  fears,  are  disqualified  from  prescribing 
for  themselves.  The  very  reverse  of  this  was  Dr. 
Hope's  case.  He  observed  his  symptoms  with  as 
cool  and  accurate  an  eye  as  he  would  those  of 
another.  *  *  *  He  requested  Mrs.  H.  not  to 
mention  the  possibility  of  his  recovery,  for  such 
conversations  tended  to  unsettle  his  mind,  while 
his  spirits  were  more  cheerful  when  he  took  an  op- 
posite view  of  the  subject.  *  *  *  He  kept  a  strip 
of  paper,  with  which  he  used  to  measure  the  size 
of  his  leg,  and  as  it  diminished,  inch  by  inch,  he 
used  to  smile,  and  to  speculate  on  the  probability 


JANUARY   26.  131 

of  his  going  before  or  after  July,  the  time  which  he 
had  first  named.  He  made  preparations  for  death, 
as  he  had  done  for  every  important  step  that  he  had 
taken  during  life.  His  family  could  find  no  more 
appropriate  manner  of  describing  his  conduct, 
throughout  the  seven  months  that  he  still  lingered, 
than  that  it  resembled  that  of  a  man  who,  expecting 
to  set  off  on  a  journey,  puts  everything  in  order 
before  his  departure,  and  makes  arrangements  to 
supply  his  absence.  *  *  *  The  remarkable  peace 
and  joy  with  which  he  was  blessed,  were  unclouded 
by  even  one  fear  or  doubt.  One  day,  one  of  his 
sisters-in-law  inquired,  whether  he  found  that  ill- 
ness enabled  him  to  realize  spiritual  things  in  a 
greater  degree.  He  answered,  *  Yes,  when  we  ap- 
proach the  invisible  world,  it  is  astonishing  with 
w^hat  intensity  of  feeling  we  desire  to  be  there.' 
She  asked  him  from  w^hat  cause.  He  answered, 
*  Oh !  for  the  glories' — and  then  she  caught  the 
words  at  intervals — '  When  we  consider,  too,  what 
WT  now  are.;  how  continually  we  sin — pollution  is 
in  every  thought — when  w^e  analyze  our  motives, 
we  see  sin  in  them.  I  did  this  from  such  a  motive 
— that,  from  such  another — charity  is  given  with  a 
feeling  of  self-complacency — the  only  way  is  to 
bring  the  burden  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  tum- 
ble it  down  there,  saying,  '  Here  I  am.'  It  is  sui 
prising  how  prominently  the  promises  come  out.' 
With  all  this  joy  and  peace,  this  eagerness  to  de- 


132  JANUARY  26. 

part  and  be  with  God,  there  was  no  enthusiasm  or 
excitement  visible  in  his  words  or  demeanour. 
His  imagination  had  always  been  kept  in  subordi- 
nation'to  his  reason,  and  now  nothing  could  have 
exceeded  his  sobriety  of  mind.  He  drew  his  hopes 
and  consolations  from  the  Bible  alone.  From  that 
source  he  derived  the  joyful  belief  that  in  another 
world,  his  renewed  faculties  and  purified  nature 
v;ould  enable  him  to  love  God  more  singly,  and  to 
serve  him  more  actively,  than  he  had  hitherto  been 
able  to  do.  He  had  also  the  most  vivid  anticipa- 
tions of  the  reunion  of  friends.'* 

To  these  passages  Dr.  G.  responded—'  This  is  as 
if  written  for  me !  As  Dr.  Hope  says,  "  there  is 
peace  in  Christ  if  v/e  go  to  him  at  once,  and  tumble 
down  our  sins  before  him.'*  Here  I  am,  a  poor, 
unworthy,  wicked  creature,  not  deserving  of  being 
looked  at  by  the  Saviour,  but  I  can  go  as  I  am,' 

Mr.  K.— 

"  All  the  fitness  He  requireth, 
Is  to  feel  your  need  of  Him  " 

Dr.  G.— 'I  have  that;  I  have  often  said  to  my 
dear  wife,  when  returning  from  seeing  Jane,  '  There 
is  dear  Aunt  Knight,  always  reading  those  little 

*  Memoir  of  James  Hope,  Esq.  M.  D.,  Physician  to  St. 
George's  Hospital,  &c.  &c.     London,  Hatchard  and  Son. 


JANUARY   26.  133 

books  you  are  so  fond  of.  I  don't  know  how  it  is.' 
But  I  know  now.' 

To  Mrs.  G. — '  What  a  happy  life  we  have  spent 
together.  You  will  think  of  the  many  pleasant 
talks  we  have  had  over  the  fire  alone.  And  how 
we've  enjoyed  our  little  excursions  together  ?  But 
we're  going  the  same  way,  and  shall  meet  again. 
It's  only  a  separation  for  a  short  time.  When  you 
visit  my  tomb,  don't  do  it  with  grief.  Perhaps  my 
spirit  may  be  permitted  to  be  hovering  round  you  ; 
and  remember  how  happy  I  shall  be.  What  a 
mercy  to  think  that  I  and  those  I  most  love,  are  all 
going  the  right  way.  I  often  picture  heaven  to  my- 
self, but  I  can't  describe  it.  Then  I  shall  have  no 
more  toil,  no  anxiety,  no  pain,  no  sin !  Oh  that 
sin !  What  would  have  become  of  me  now,  if  I 
had  to  appear  before  God  in  my  own  righteousness, 
which  is  indeed  but  filthy  rags  !  But  I  shall  be 
clothed  in  Christ's  righteousness!'  Mrs.  G. — 'If 
any  one  could  rely  on  his  own  acts,  you  could ;  for 
you  have  always  laboured  to  do  good.'  Dr.  G. — • 
*  But  what  sin  is  mixed  with  every  thing  !  I  have 
been  thinking  of  heaven,  wondering  who  will  ad- 
mit us,  and  introduce  us.  But  it  will  be  a  beauti- 
ful land  !  0  what  a  glorious  land  !  You  must  be 
happy  to  see  me  so  happy.' 

He  then,  with  the  utmost  composure  and  kind 
consideration,  entered  into  some  minute  arrange- 
ments for  the  comfort  of  survivors  ;  after  which,  re- 
12 


134  JANUARY  27. 

verting  to  former  days,  and  those  simple  recreations 
in  which  he  always  took  so  much  interest,  he  said 
— *  I  hope  you  will  visit  those  places  again,  and 
think  of  me,  and  don't  avoid  any  thing  connected 
with  me.  There  are  your  songs,  (addressing  his 
daughter)  my  favourites  you'll  sing,  ^  The  last  rose 
of  Summer,'  and  '  The  light  of  other  days  is  faded,' 
that  will  be  very  appropriate  you  know.'  Then 
continuing  to  look  at  her  with  inexpressible  tender- 
ness, he  added — '  I'd  rather  have  died  a  thousand 
times  than  have  seen  you  die,  my  child.  I  could 
not  have  survived  it,  the  shock  would  have  been  too 
great.' 

Saturday,  Jan.  27.  Dr.  Gordon  was  much  weaker. 
He  said  to  the  writer — ''  I  feel  I  am  getting  worse, 
more  rapidly  than  you  may  imagine.  My  eyes  are 
getting  dim,  and  my  brain  shakes.  I  should  wish 
none  of  you  to  be  out  of  the  way.  Let  me  see  any 
who  call,  for  my  end  is  certain,  and  I  wish  to  see 
my  friends  to  the  last.  And  don't  be  afraid  of  wak- 
ing me,  my  time  cannot  be  long,  and  I  wish  to  en- 
joy your  conversation  while  I  can.' 

To  Mr.  Smithard,  a  devoted  temperance  mission- 
ary,— '  I  took  wine  for  a  few  days,  as  it  was  urged 
on  me.  I  complied  for  the  satisfaction  of  my  friends. 
I  wished  to  perform  my  duty.  But  it  did  me  great 
injury — my  testimony  is  against  it — it  always  was 
— ^but  my  friends  would  not  have  been  contented, 
and  I  now  feel  more  satisfaction  myself.  I  am  per- 


JANUARY    27.  135 

fectly  happy — anxious  to  go  to  that  blessed  country. 
I  said,  weeks  ago,  that  I  should  not  recover,  and 
everything  I  predicted  has  come  to  pass.'  Mr.  S. 
referred  to  his  many  benevolent  exertions  for  the 
poor,  especially  in  the  promotion  of  temperance, 
expressing  the  grief  that  was  felt  at  the  prospect  of 
losing  so  zealous  and  pow^erful  a  friend  to  the  cause, 
with  the  confidence  that  God  W'ould  reward  him 
for  all  the  sacrifices  which  he  had  made.  He  re- 
plied— '  I  have  felt  the  cause  important,  but  I  am  a 
poor  creature— how  imperfect — I  have  no  merits — 
I  feel  it  most  deeply.  I  regret  I  am  too  w^ak  to 
say  more  at  present.  Don't  forget  me.  I  wish  to  live 
in  your  remembrance.' 

To  E.  R.— '  I  had  no  idea  there  could  be  such 
happiness.  It  is  by  simply  coming  to  Christ.  If 
jou  ever  meet  with  men  of  intellect  and  study,  ask 
them  w^hat  they  w^ant.  It  is  happiness.  Tell  them 
that  to  get  it  they  must  come  to  the  foot  of  the  cross. 
They  can  never  get  it  by  reasoning,  and  I  am  sure 
that  if  Christians  would  take  all  their  burdens  to 
Christ,  and  take  them  continually,  they  would  not 
have  so  many  doubts  and  fears.' 

A  long  and  delightful  conversation  took  place 
betw^een  himself  and  the  numerous  members  of  his 
family  who  surrounded  his  bed.  It  being  remarked 
that  he  would  do  very  badly  now^,  without  Clirlst, 
he  replied—'  Oh  !  I  could  not  do  at  all.  I  strip  off 
my  own  doings  and  cast  them  down  tliere,  all  in  a 


136  JANUARY    27. 

heap.  I  see  the  heap  just  before  me,  and  I  see  Jesua 
there  too — who  has  accepted  me.  Death  is  rather 
a  herald  of  good  than  of  evil.  In  most  subjects 
when  I  have  seen  a  thing  once,  I  have  no  more 
misgivings.  But  I  feel  this  is  such  great  truth— I 
cannot  see  why  Christians  should  have  doubts  : 
Christ  comes  to  us,  seeks  us,  runs  after  us,  sends 
afflictions  to  bring  us  to  Him,  and  why  should  we 
doubt?  I  have  been  asking  my  dear  wife,  whether 
I  properly  understand  the  subject,  as  I  have  no 
doubts,  and  Christians  generally  seem  to  have  so 
many.  I  could  not  doubt.  It's  so  plain— Can  men 
be  so  anxious  to  be  exalted  to  the  presence  of 
royalty,  when  we  may  approach  the  majesty  of 
Heaven }  Oh  !  its  abject !  its  wretched  !  And  we 
may  have  this  honour  even  on  earth !  To  think 
that  I  should  ever  have  felt  flattered,  had  I  been 
sent  for  to  the  palace,  when  I  might  have  enjoyed 
the  presence  of  Deity  himself!  when  I  might  have 
had  hourly  intercourse  with  Him  !  Was  there  ever 
such  an  imperfect  creature  ! — All  the  consideration 
of  my  own  mind,  all  the  analysis  I  can  make  of  it, 
proves  the  truth  of  Christianity.  It  so  provides  for 
all  the  wants  of  the  soul.  If  I  w^ere  to  begin  to 
reason,  I  could  get  into  a  maze,  but  I  am  told  to 
come  as  a  little  child,  and  then  I  find  perfect  peace. 
Do  you  think  man  could  have  made  such  a  system  ? 
— Once  receive  it  into   the  heart,   and  you  have 


JANUARY    27,  137 

enough  evidence  there. — And  can  men  be  ambitious: 
and  avaricious?' 

Having  prayed  together  around  his  bed,  and  his 
favourite  twenty-third  Psalm  having  been  chanted 
by  his  request,  with  the  hymns  '  Rock  of  ages,'  and 
'  There  is  a  happy  land,'  conversation  was  resumed, 
when  he  said — '  instead  of  my  ow^n  sinful  deeds,  I 
rely  on  Christ.  How  this  would  purify  my  deeds' 
themselves  w^ere  I  going  to  live — a  thing  I  never  saw 
before.  I  cannot  tell  what  Satan  might  do,  but  I 
feel  my  faith  such,  that  I  could  not  do  a  thing  con- 
trary to  the  will  of  God.  It  would  so  shock  me, 
that  I  think  I  could  not  exist  under  it.  I  should 
wish  to  be  like  Christ  himself.  Thus  faith  and  good 
works  become  united.  You  may  be  sure  I  liave 
been  taught  this  in  a  way  extraordinary.  It  seems 
all  so  clear  to  me.' 

It  was  remarked,  that  Christians  do  not  always 
.  see  these  truths  as  clearly  as  he  then  did.     He  re- 
plied— *  Because  we  begin  to  argue  and  cavil;  that's 
where  it  is.     We  are  not  as  little  children.'     It  was 
observed,  that  if  he  recovered,  he  would  find  Satan, 
the  flesh,  and  the  world  to  contend  against,    and 
would  have  \.o  fight.     He  replied — ^  Yes,  but  I  could 
fight.     0  I  feel  what  strength  that  good  Saviour  has 
given  me.'     Being  asked  if  he  felt  the  least  fear  of 
dying,  he  replied — 'I  meet  death  as  a  friend — he 
will  take  me  to  that  Saviour  who  has  been  so  good 
*  to  me.     I  feel  as  if  I  could  stand  up  to-morrow  in 
12* 


138  JANUARY   27. 

the  market-place,  and  proclaim  in  a  voice  of  thun- 
der to  all  the  town,  what  I  feel.— How  men  can 
keep  away  from  religion,  or  when  once  they  have 
faith  in  Christ  do  what  is  against  his  will,  or  how 
they  can  be  unhappy  when  God  is  their  friend,  I 
don't  know  ;  but  to  me,  at  present,  it  would  seem 
impossible.  I  wonder  how"  Christians  can  make  a 
trouble  of  any  thing.  But  0  the  pride  of  the  world, 
seeking  after  great  things  ;  if  I  could  see  God  as  ray 
friend,  how  great  should  I  feel  above  all  the  world! 

0  what  sw^eet  converse  this  is,  to  talk  of  the  good- 
ness of  God,  and  to  me,  so  undeserving !  There  is 
never  any  abatement  of  it.     Its  love  throughout ! — 

1  hope  I  shall  have  a  comfortable  day  to-morrow, 
and  pass  a  happy  sabbath  with  my  friends.'  He 
fell  asleep  as  we  continued  to  talk,  having  had 
scarcely  any  rest  throughout  the  day. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

FROM    SUNDAY    JAN.   28,  TO    SUNDAY    FEB.    4. 

THE  shepherd's  DOG VARIOUS  INTERVIEWS — fUNERAL  TES- 
TIMONY— RELIGION    IN    HARMONY    WITH    REASON — LORD's 

SUPPER EXPERIMENTAL    EVIDENCE EXTRACT    FROM    MR. 

knight's  FUNERAL  SERMON NO  DEATH  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN- 
SELECTION    OF  HIS    GRAVE KIRKE  WHITE ATTENTION    TO 

WORLDLY    AFFAIRS LETTER   FROM    THE    AUTHOR    OF    THE 

sinner's   FRIEND — CHRISTIANS    REGARD    THEMSELVES    THE 
CHIEF  OF  SINNERS. 

Sunday,  January  28.  On  awaking,  Dr.  G.  said — 
*  I  have  been  thinking  of  God  as  a  shepherd.  The 
shepherd  sends  out  his  dog  when  a  sheep  has  wan- 
dered from  the  fold,  to  bark  at,  and  frighten,  and 
sometimes  to  bite  the  wanderer,  in  order  to  bring  it 
Dack.  So  afflictions  and  pains  are  the  dogs  which 
our  Shepherd  sends  to  bring  us  back  to  Him.  Some 
of  us  are  stubborn  sheep.  I  was  one  of  these,  and 
the  dog  had  to  bite  me  ;  but  the  barking  and  biting 
are  to  do  us  good,  not  harm,  and  to  bring  us  to  the 
Shepherd.' 


140  JANUARY   28. 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Dobbin  called  to  bid  him  farewell, 
when  the  following  dialogue  took  place — 

Dr.  G. — '  This  affliction  was  all  for  my  good,  my 
happiness.' 

Dr.  D. — '  God  sends  afflictions,  that  we  may  re- 
member Him.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Not  only  that  we  may  remember  him, 
but  that  we  may  have  joy.  I  have  had  more  en- 
'oyment  the  few  last  weeks  than  in  my  whole  life. 
I  could  not  have  a  doubt,  not  one.  He  saw  me  a 
rebellious  child.  I  am  a  miracle — an  example  of 
a  marvellous  interposition  of  God.  A  short  illness 
would  not  have  been  enough.  He  saw  I  needed 
ail  this,  and  Oh  !  the  blessing  that  has  attended  it !' 

Dr.  D. — *  More  seems  necessary  to  be  done  for 
educated  men  than  for  others.  They  have  pride 
of  intellect  and  of  heart  to  be  subdued.  But  there's 
only  one  way.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  Only  one !  I  trusted  too  much  to 
human  learning,  but  when  I  saw  how  to  get  this 
by  coming  as  a  little  child,  it  burst  on  me  in  a  way 
I  cannot  describe.  But  man  could  not  have  taught 
me  this.  It  was  the  Holy  Spirit  of  grace.  Then 
it  all  rushed  upon  my  view  at  once.  I  saw  Christ 
my  Saviour ;  stripped  off  all  my  filthy  deeds,  went 
to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  Christ  presented  me  to 
God.' 

Dr.  D. — *  This  is  the  best  wisdom.' 


JANUARY   28.  141 

Dr.  G. — *  It  is  the  only  way.  I  could  laugh  to 
scorn  the  man  who  rests  in  his  learning.' 

Dr.  D. — '  The  true  wisdom  is  in  coming  to 
Christ.     This  is  joy.' 

Dr.  G. — ^  And  power  and  majesty.  You  have  a 
greatness  in  your  soul  you  never  felt  before.  You 
have  no  fear  of  the  world,  or  death,  or  anything. 
You  feel  God  is  your  companion  and  friend, 
cherishing  you  by  constant  intercourse.  Oh  !  the 
hours  I  have  spent  of  the  most  delightful  kind,  such 
as  I  never  experienced  before  !' 

Dr.  D. — ^  The  people  of  God  sometimes  feel  the 
truth  of  what  some  may  think  too  strongly  expres- 
sed by  Dr.  Watts,— 

"  The  opening  heavens  around  me  shine 

With  beams  of  sacred  bhss, 
While  Jesus  shows  his  heart  is  mine, 

And  whispers,  I  am  his." — 

you  feel  this.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Yes,  in  the  most  exquisite  w^ay.' 
Dr.  D. — *  It  is  God  who  began  this  work.' 
Dr.  G. — *  I  could  believe  no  other.  The  result 
proves  it.  I  should  desire  no  stronger  proof  of  the 
truth  of  Christianity  than  my  own  case.  It  is  so 
adapted  to  me.  Not  that  it  escaped  my  investiga- 
tion before.  It  was  my  study  daily.  But  I  trusted 
too  much  to  human  learning.  But  Oh !  I  am 
safely  landed  at  last,  and  in  a  manner  to  me  most 


142  JANUARY  28. 

extraordinary.  I  have  attended  in  many  sick 
rooms,  and  heard  of  doubts  and  fears,  but  I  have 
no  such  things.' 

On  taking  leave  of  Dr.  D.,  he  requested  him  to 
conduct  the  funeral  service. 

To  the  Rev.  J.  Stuart,  and  Mr.  V.,  he  said— 
*  The  suffering  I  have  had  is  nothing,  for  it  has 
brought  to  me  a  happiness  I  had  no  conception  ex- 
isted. I  have  found  that  God  is  my  friend,  loves 
me,  and  through  Christ,  has  pardoned  me.  I  have 
sought  Him  through  Christ.  I  have  seen  my  en- 
tire worthlessness,  and  He  in  his  great  mercy,  has 
filled  my  heart  with  His  Holy  Spirit.  Oh  that  gos- 
pel, how  it  understands  the  human  heart !  And  to 
think  w^e  should  lose  such  enjoyment  when  we 
might  have  it  every  day  of  our  lives !  How  great 
and  noble  it  makes  us!  How  independent!  It 
takes  away  all  fear  of  the  world,  and  of  death,  and 
you  feel  at  once  that  God  is  your  friend !  No  man 
could  have  taught  me  ;  it  came  through  that  great 
and  gracious  Being.  As  to  seeking  to  be  religious, 
I  have  always  been  doing  that,  but  I  did  not  seek 
in  the  right  way.  It  must  be  hearty  not  head. 
Now  I  yee/  that  "  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd." — I 
may  be  thought  to  use  strong  terms,  but  during  my 
whole  illness,  my  head  has  been  as  clear  as  at  any 
former  period,  and  I  have  taken  no  opiates.' 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  the  Author  said  to  him 
— ^  You  haA^e  told  us  that  had  it  pleased  God  that 


JANUARY     28.  143 

you  shouiJ  recover,  it  would  have  been  your  de- 
light to  preach  Christ.  I  have  been  thinking  that 
you  could  do  this  very  emphatically  at  your  funeral. 
Many  people,  of  all  descriptions,  will  be  gathered 
together,  and  your  dying  testimony  would  be  very 
impressive.  If  you  would  like  to  say  anything,  I 
will  write  it  down.' 

Dr.  Gordon — '  Oh,  I  cannot  find  words  sufficient. 
I  am  afraid  I  cannot  convey  the  thing  sufficiently. 
I  should  be  doing  injustice  to  my  Saviour.' — He 
then,  after  a  brief  pause,  very  solemnly  and  em- 
phatically spoke  as  follows  :— '  All  human  learning 
is  of  no  avail.  Reason  must  he  put  out  of  the 
question.  I  reasoned  and  debated^  and  irivestigated, 
but  I  found  no  peace  till  I  came  to  the  gospel  as  a 
little  child,  till  I  received  it  as  a  babe.  Then  such 
a  light  was  shed  abroad  in  my  heart,  that  I  saw  the 
whole  scheme  at  once,  and  I  found  pleasure  the  most 
indescribable.  I  saw  there  was  no  good  deed  in  my- 
self Though  I  had  spent  hours  in  examining  my 
conduct,  I  found  nothing  I  had  done  would  give  me 
real  satisfaction.  It  was  always  mixed  up  witJt 
something  selfish.  But  when  I  came  to  the  gospel 
as  a  child,  the  Holy  Spirit  seemed  to  fill  my  heart. 
I  then  saw  my  selfishness  in  all  its  vivid  deformity^ 
and  I  found  there  was  no  acceptance  with  God,  and 
no  happiness  except  through  the  blessed  Redeemer. 
I  stripped  of  all  my  own  deeds — threw  them  aside 
— went  to  Him  naked — He  received  me  as  He  pro- 


M4  JANUARY   28. 

mised  He  would,  and  presented  me  to  the  Father — 
then  I  felt  joy  unspeakable,  and  all  fear  of  death  at 
once  vanished."^ 

This  remarkably  comprehensive  testimony  to  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  the  method  of  salvation,  the 
work  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  nature  and  results  of 
faith,  so  simple  and  so  emphatic,  coming  too  from 
the  lips  of  a  man  known  to  have  been  throughout 
his  life,  an  investigator  of  all  truth,  and  an  enthu- 
siastic worshipper  of  reason,  produced  a  great  im- 
pression on  the  vast  concourse  assembled  at  the 
funeral,  and  on  the  faj;  greater  multitudes  among 
whom  it  was  circulated,  by  the  reports  which  ap- 
peared in  the  local  papers.  May  it  prove  a  lasting 
blessing  to  many !  "  By  it,  he  being  dead,  yet 
speaketh." 

The  thoughtful  reader  will  place  the  legitimate 
interpretation  on  the  expression — *  Reason  must  be 
put  out  of  the  question.'  Similar  remarks  occur 
throughout  the  volume.  Dr.  Gordon  did  not  of 
course  mean  that  reason  and  revelation  were  not  in 
harmony,  or  that  the  intellect  was  not  to  be  exer- 
cised on  religion.  He  had  throughout  life,  read 
largely  and  thought  deeply  on  the  subject.  He  did 
not  now  regret  that  long  investigation,  as  it  had  given 
him  a  degree  of  confidence,  which  he  could  not 
otherwise  have  obtained.*     His  inquiries  had  only 

*  See  pp.  58,  99. 


JANUARY    28.  145 

confirmed  his  conviction,  that  revelation  was  in  har- 
mony with  all  truth.  He  would  have  been  the  last 
to  discourage  the  freest  and  fullest  scrutiny.  He 
stated  that  one  of  his  principal  hindrances  had  been 
the  forbidding  manner  in  which  Christians  sometimes 
frowned  down  the  objections  of  sceptical  but  candid 
inquirers.  His  meaning,  though  expressed  in  the 
strong  and  unguarded  terms  of  a  man  who  feels 
deeply,  was  this:  that  all  the  efforts  of  reason  are 
unavailing  to  produce  that  spiritual  change  of  which 
the  Holy  Ghost  is  the  author,  and  without  which 
the  gospel  cannot  be  experimentally  known.  He 
was  conscious  of  an  influence  totally  distinct  from 
the  result  of  a  merely  intellectual  process.  He  had 
"become  a  new  creature."  While  with  all  the 
ardour  of  one  who  experiences  what  had  hitherto 
been  unknown,  he  referred  to  his  feelings  as  con- 
stituting an  all-sufficient  evidence,  none  could  value 
more  than  he,  the  WTitten  word  ;  none  could  be  more 
persuaded  of  its  agreement  with  the  dictates  of  en- 
lightened reason,  and  none  could  more  earnestly 
have  recommended  the  enlisting  of  every  mental 
faculty  in  its  study.  But  none  were  more  fully  sen- 
sible than  he  became,  from  his  own  experience,  that 
we  can  only  understand  that  w^ord  aright,  when  in 
the  child-like  spirit  which  God  bestows  on  all  who 
seek  it,  we  become  learners  in  the  school  of  Christ. 
Then  the  "  inward  witness"  is  felt  to  be  superior  to 
any  external  evidence,  however  valuable.  The 
13 


146  JANUARY    28 

voice  of  the  Spirit  in  the  book,  witnesseth  with  the 
voice  of  the  Spirit  in  our  own  heart,  that  we  are  the 
children  of  God,  and  that  Christianity  is  Divine. 
(Romans  viii.  16.)  Yet  even  this  evidence  cannot 
be  dissociated  from  reason,  in  the  highest  sense  of 
that  term,  as  Dr.  Gordon  himself  clearly  saw  and 
often  expressed.*  The  inward  consciousness  of  the 
believer  is  the  spontaneous  testimony  ef  reason  her- 
self, divinely  enlightened  and  sanctified.  And 
nothing  is  more  adapted  to  impress  the  minds  of 
unbelievers,  than  the  suitability  of  the  gospel  to  the 
spiritual  wants  of  man,  and  its  visible  effects  in  ren- 
dering its  disciples  holy  and  happy. 

In  the  evening,  by  his  spontaneous  request,  the 
Lord's  Supper  was  celebrated  in  his  room.  He 
said  he  did  not  regard  it  with  any  superstitious  no- 
tions, but  felt  it  a  pleasure  to  be  thus  associated  in 
Christian  communion  with  the  people  of  God,  and 
to  render  an  act  of  grateful  and  obedient  homage  to 
Christ,  of  whose  death  he  regarded  this  ordinance 
of  the  Church,  as  a  memorial.  As  a  friend  might 
wish  survivors  to  do  certain  things  after  his  decease, 
in  commemoration  of  him,  so  Christ  said  to  his  dis- 
ciples— "Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me."  He 
strongly  repudiated  the  idea  of  preparation  for  eter- 
nity by  an  ordinance  which  was  designed  not  to  fit 
men  for  death,  but  to  comfort  them  in  life ;  which 

*  See  pp.  147—150,  162,  &c. 


JANUARY   28.  147 

was  a  confession  and  an  aid,  but  not  a  communi- 
cator of  faith  and  love  ;  an  act  not  constituting  men 
Christians,  but  to  be  performed  by  tliose  who  were 
ah'eady  such.  It  united  no  one  to  Christ,  but  was 
an  outward  profession  of  a  union  already  formed, 
which  union,  like  all  other  means  of  grace,  it  tended 
to  cement  and  confirm.  In  proportion  only  as  it 
was  connected  with  faith,  did  it  profit  the  partici- 
pator, even  as  prayer  confers  benefits  on  those  alone 
who  penetrate  beyond  the  outw^ard  form,  to  the  in- 
ner presence,  and  hold  spiritual  communion  with 
God.  With  such  views  he  now  desired  to  '  keep  the 
feast,'  not  because  he  felt  he  was  near  death,  but 
because  he  was  conscious  of  that  living  faith  and 
constraining  love  towards  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  the 
absence  of  which  he  had  never  felt  he  should  be 
justified  in  approaching  the  sacramental  table. 

The  circumstance  of  its  being  his  first  participa- 
tion in  this  sacred  ordinance,  and,  as  w^e  all  thought, 
his  last;  together  with  the  intense  love  to  Christ 
which  so  manifestly  filled  his  breast,  and  the  con- 
viction that  before  another  Sabbath  dawned,  he 
would  be  in  the  assembly  of  the  just  made  perfect, 
rendered  this  an  occasion  of  the  most  thrilling  in- 
terest to  all  present.  He  expressed  the  great  delight 
he  had  felt  in  the  service,  and  said — *that  in  answer 
to  prayer,  God  had  granted  him  a  most  happy  day.' 
Heaven  being  referred  to  if.  connection  with  the 
Lord's  Sapper,  he  said — ^  YeSj  it  is  d.  feast,  a  con- 


148  JANUARY    29. 

tinual,  everlasting  feast.'.  We  then  chanted  his 
favourite  Psalm,  the  23rd,  when  he  fell  asleep. 

Monday,  January  29.  He  said  at  different  times, 
'  I  never  used  to  understand  the  influences  of  the 
Spirit,  for  I  sought  to  comprehend  religion  only  by 
the  reason  ;  but  I  understand  now,  by  experience, 
what  it  means. — There's  no  good  in  speculative 
subjects ;  keep  to  the  plain  truths  of  the  Bible. — 
0  !  what  a  happiness  it  is  to  have  communion  with 
God  !  Love  to  God  produces  such  love  to  others. 
Since  I  felt  what  I  do,  I  have  loved  you  all  so  much 
more,  with  a  love  I  could  not  conceive  of?  O  my 
blessed  Saviour,  how  can  I  serve  Him  enough  ' 
Were  I  to  live,  the  Bible  should  be  more  my  book.' 

Taylor's  '  Physical  Theory  of  another  Life,'  and 
the  mode  of  a  separate  soul's  existence,  being  re  • 
ferred  to,  with  the  remark  that  it  was  enough  for  us 
that  God  was  aiming  to  bring  our  minds  into  har- 
mony with  himself,  he  replied — *  That  is  my  prepa- 
ration ;  God  has  been  doing  it  for  me,  and  doing  it 
by  afSictions.'  In  the  evening  he  said — '  Do  come 
and  talk  on  these  delightful  subjects.  I  cannot  say 
much  myself,  I  am  too  weak,  but  I  love  to  listen  to 
you.  I  feel  an  assurance  of  pardon.  Am  I  not 
scripturally  right  in  knowing  it  ?  I  could  not  doubt 
it!'  An  interesting  conversation  followed,  on  the 
experimental  evidence  of  Christianity,  of  which  the 
following  is  the  substance: — 

Actual  experience  is  the  strongest  proof  in  every 


JANUARY    29.  149 

case.  If  a  man  professes  to  be  able  to  do  such  and 
such  things,  the  actual  doing  of  them  is  a  more  con- 
clusive and  ready  evidence  than  any  chain  of  argu- 
ment. Take  an  electrical  machine:  prove  to  a 
by-stander  that  the  wire  is  charged,  and  that  by 
touching  it  he  will  receive  a  shock.  The  process  is 
long  and  may  be  disputed.  An  explanation  may 
be  asked  of  the  nature  of  electricity,  and  of  every 
part  of  the  machinery.  Evidence  may  be  demanded 
that  the  process  has  been  correctly  gone  through, 
that  the  battery  is  verily  charged,  and  that  its  con- 
nection with  the  wire  to  be  touched,  is  unbroken. 
Witnesses  may  be  required  to  testify,  that  they  them- 
selves have  experienced  the  predicted  effects,  and 
then  their  veracity  or  competency,  may  be  called  in 
question.  Would  it  not  be  a  much  speedier  mode 
of  attaining  conviction,  to  touch  the  wire  and  re- 
ceive the  shock  ?  However  interesting  the  investi- 
gation, actual  experiment  must  be  the  strongest  and 
speediest  demonstration.  Christianity  is  a  machinery 
of  truth,  in  connection  with  which  exists  a  mighty 
though  mysterious  efficacy,  experienced  when  the 
soul  is  brought  into  contact  with  that  truth,  by  faith. 
Evidence  is  demanded  ;  you  are  asked  to  prove  the 
harmony  of  all  parts  of  the  machine,  the  consistency 
of  truth  with  truth — to  demonstrate  the  unbroken 
continuity  of  the  connecting  line,  the  chain  of  his- 
torical evidence — to  explain  the  precise  laws  by 
which  the  shock  takes  place,  the  mode  in  which  the 
13* 


150  JANUARY    29. 

Spirit  of  God  influences  the  heart.  This  process  is 
necessarily  long,  and  will  suggest  many  an  inquiry 
which  it  will  be  difficult  to  satisfy.  Much  will  ap- 
pear mysterious,  of  which  no  solution  can  be  given. 
But  if  that  questioner  will  by  faith,  touch  for  him- 
self, he  will  at  once  have  an  inward  witness,  which 
no  sophistry  can  shake.  Suppose  a  man  v;ho  had 
never  tasted  bread,  is  told  that  it  is  good  for  food, 
and  sufficient  not  only  to  sustain  life,  but  to  impart 
strength.  He  demands  proof.  He  asks  how  bread 
is  produced  ;  how  the  seed  corn  growls  up  into  the 
blade,  and  the  full  eai ;  how  it  is  converted  into 
flour  and  bread  ;  whether  the  loaf  before  him  is 
vei'ily  the  identical  substance  which  was  grown  in 
the  corn  field,  and  not  some  other  which  has  been 
substituted  for  it ;  what  are  its  chemical  qualities, 
and  in  w^hat  manner  it  is  digested  and  assimilated ; 
and  should  he  refuse  to  eat  till  all  his  inquiries  are 
answered,  he  may  perish  from  hunger  before  the 
reply  is  complete.  But  if  he  tests  that  bread  by 
eating  it,  and  finds  that  he  is  nourished  by  it,  no 
denial  of  its  nutritive  qualities  by  others,  and  no  ig- 
norance of  the  method  in  himself,  can  remove  the 
strong  conviction  w^hich  that  experimental  test  has 
given  him.  Christian  truth  is  the  bread  of  the  soul — 
imparting  life,  strength,  gladness.  Prove,  says  one, 
that  it  is  really  the  same  that  originally  descended 
from  above,  and  that  it  has  not  been  corrupted  by 
human    substitutions  and  additions;  explain  what 


JANUARY    30.  151 

seems  mysterious  about  its  origin,  and  make  clear 
to  us  the  method  in  which  it  influences  him  who  re- 
ceives it.  However  interesting  such  investigations 
may  be,  and  even  supposing  they  could  be  as  fully 
satisfied  as  those  respecting  the  bread  that  perish- 
eth  ;  (though  even  in  that  instance,  there  are  phy- 
sical mysteries  which  no  science  can  explain  ;)  the 
man  who  by  faith  receives  into  his  soul  the  doctrine 
of  the  cross,  "that  bread  of  life,"  has  in  himself  an 
evidence  in  the  positive  effects  produced  on  his 
spiritual  nature,  which  he  feels  to  be  stronger  than 
any  other.  Instead  of  debating,  let  the  questionei 
put  the  gospel  to  the  test.  He  will  then  be  more 
satisfied  than  by  a  thousand  other  arguments. 
"  If  any  man  will  do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine,  whether  it  be  of  God."  Dr.  Gordon 
often  reiterated  this  expression — ^  If  I  had  no  othei 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  than  my  own 
case,  it  would  be  sufficient,  if  all  the  world  were 
anti-Christians.' 

Tuesday,  Jan.  30.  The  night  had  been  stormy. 
In  alluding  to  it.  Dr.  G.  said — '  As  I  heard  the 
wind  blowing,  I  thought  how  peaceful  and  happy 
to  be  laid  in  the  cemetery.' 

The  Rev.  Joseph  Green,  Rector  of  Owmby,  a 
brother-in-law  of  Dr.  Gordon's,  came  for  the  pur- 
pose of  bidding  him  farewell,  and  witnessing  for 
himself  that  "  triumphing  over  death,"  the  reports 
of  which  had  so  interested  and  delighted  him.     He 


152  JANUARY  30. 

said  in  the  course  of  conversation,  that  there  was 
no  one  for  whom  he  had  prayed  so  much  as  for  Dr. 
G. ;  thinking  him  in  great  danger  from  his  intellect, 
and  his  habit  of  requiring  everything  to  be  demon- 
strated, and  he  feared  that  even  his  moral  excel- 
lence might  be  a  hindrance  to  his  becoming  a 
Christian,  which  required  an  acknowledgment  of 
our  entire  unworthiness  in  the  sight  of  God.  Ad- 
dressing Dr.  G.  he  said — '  You  now  feel  how  little 
you  can  do  without  Christ.'  Dr.  G. — ^  We  can  do 
nothings  poor,  wretched,  ignorant;  He  can  do 
everything.'^  Mr.  G. — *  This  disarms  eternity  of 
its  terrors.'  Dr.  G. — '  It  has  no  terrors.'  Mr.  G. 
— *  You  must  not  look  within  yourself,  but  to 
Christ.'  Dr.  G. — 'Ah  !  but  I  do  look  within  my- 
self, but  then  I  cast  myself  on  Christ.  I  turn  to  the 
promises  at  once.  I  could  not  have  believed  there 
v.'as  such  joy.  I  have  smiled  at  things,  I  now"  un- 
derstand. I  love  my  friends  with  such  a  different 
love,  my  whole  nature  seems  changed.  How 
Christians  can  doubt,  I  cannot  imagine.  I  fly  to 
the  gospel,  I  read  what  He  says,  and  nothing  could 
make  me  doubt.  How  can  I,  when  God  sent  after 
us  and  sought  us,  when  w^e  did  not  seek  Him  ?  If 
he  sought  me  when  I  was  not  seeking  Him,  He 
will  not  forsake  me,  now  I  have  found  Him  !' 

To  the  Rev.  William  Knight,  Incumbent  of  St. 
James's  Church,  Hull,  the  Rev.  James  Sibree,  and 
the  Author,  w^ho  w^ere  at  his  bed-side,  he  earnestly 


JANUARY    30.  153 

said — ^  Preachers  do  not  speak  of  the  gospel  as 
they  ought ;  not  in  terms  exalted  enough.  It  is 
such  a  book  !  Had  I  strength  to  enter  a  pulpit,  I 
do  not  know  what  I  would  not  say  of  it.  I  have 
long  been  trying  to  learn  it  by  reason.  Never! 
Never!  I  see  what  I  saw  not  before,  and  feel 
what  I  never  felt.  When  a  man  comes  to  that  book 
as  a  child,  he  will  find  wonders  in  it  to  make  him 
marvel.  The  love  of  God  is  what  I  cannot  de- 
scribe. So  great  is  it,  I  could  have  no  doubts  and 
fears.  To  think  that  gracious  Being  has  been 
seeking  me,  and  afflicting  me,  till  he  brought  me 
to  this  happiness  !  I  murmured,  but  I  did  not  see 
what  he  designed — to  bring  me  to  that  blessed 
Saviour !  All  the  sayings  of  the  Bible  so  accord 
with  all  I  have  experienced,  that  I  feel  it  to  be  the 
most  marvellous  book  there  ever  was  in  the  world. 
Read  every  word  of  it,  and  take  it  just  as  it  is.  I 
feel  my  whole  mind  truly  changed.  I  remember 
in  the  first  part  of  my  illness,  when  I  saw  you  all 
coming  in,  healthy  and  vigorous,  I  inwardly  mur- 
mured and  was  envious,  but  now,  I  rejoice  in  your 
health.  I  love  my  friends  with  a  tenfold  love ;  I 
don't  know  how  I  feel  tc  them,  they  are  so  precious 
to  me.' 

As  in  all  Dr.  G.'s  interviews  with  his  friends  it 
was  felt  in  this  instance,  that  there  was  much  to 
be  learnt,  and  nothing  to  teach.  Ministers  of  the 
gospel  were  at  his  bed-side,  listening  to  one,  who. 


154  JANUARY    30. 

they  confessed,  knew  much  more  than  themselves. 
He  had  been  so  evidently  taught  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
that  those  who  came  to  see  him,  felt  that  he  needed 
no  instruction  and  no  consolation  from  man.  Un- 
able to  impart,  they  were  delighted  to  receive.  On 
leaving  the  room,  Mr.  Sibree  said — '  He  ^knows 
much  more  than  we  do.'  Mr.  Knight  replied  that 
he  had  been  in  the  ministry  twenty-eight  years,  but 
had  never  met  with  so  remarkable  and  wonderful  a 
case.  A  testimony  to  the  same  effect  was  more 
publicly  given  by  Mr.  K.  in  a  funeral  sermon,  de- 
livered on  Sunday,  Feb.  18,  in  St.  James's  Church, 
from  which,  in  corroboration  of  his  own  statements, 
the  Author  gratefully  avails  himself  of  the  permis- 
sion to  insert  the  following  extract : — 

'  Having  myself  witnessed  from  day  to  day,  the 
wonderful  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  his  gracious 
work  upon  the  heart  of  the  deceased,  I  feel  anxious 
to  avail  myself  of  the  circumstance,  as  an  occasion 
of  illustrating  those  great  evangelical  truths,  which 
[  am  constantly  endeavouring  to  press  upon  your 
attention.  I  shall  not  speak  one  word  in  praise  of 
the  deceased,  though  I  might  speak  many.  To 
his  opinions  on  political  and  ecclesiastical  subjects, 
on  both  of  which  I  differed  from  him,  it  would  be 
wholly  irrelevant  to  make  any  allusion.  Nor  is  it 
at  all  necessary  to  enter  upon  his  private  and  do^ 
mestic  character,  or  to  dwell  upon  his  daily  and 
unremitting  exertions  as  the  poor  man's  friend      W 


JANUARY    30,  155 

• 

these  points  will  ere  long  be  before  the  public,  and 
my  silence  on  them  will  not  be  attributed  to  a 
wrong  cause  by  any  one  who  is  acquainted  with 
the  harmonious  intercourse,  which  always  existed 
between  myself  and  my  deceased  brother-in-law, 
in  private  life. 

*  It  was  some  time  after  Dr.  Gordon's  health  be- 
gan to  give  way,  that  his  friends  became  acquainted 
with  the  fact  of  a  most  interesting  and  important 
change  having  passed  upon  his  mind.  How  long 
he  had  been  savingly  impressed  w^ith  Divine  truth, 
I  cannot  take  upon  me  to  say ;  but  one  thing  is 
quite  certain,  viz.,  that  his  was  not  a  case  of  death- 
bed repentance.  Repeatedly  he  said — "This  is  no 
now  thing,  these  are  no  new  feehngs:  I  have  known 
them  long."  I  consider  this  to  be  a  most  import- 
ant feature  in  the  case.  We  see  so  many  instances 
of  apparent  contrition,  and  turning  to  God  in  times 
of  emergency,  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  in  the 
prospect  of  death;  and  we  so  often  see  the  passing 
away  of  serious  impressions  with  returning  health, 
just  like  the  morning  cloud  or  early  dew,  that  it  is 
most  difficult  to  feel  any  thing  like  confidence  in 
those  cases  where  persons  begin  to  be  religious  just 
when  God  takes  from  them  the  opportunity  of  being 
irreligious  any  longer.  How  peculiarly  consoling 
then  it  is,  in  the  instance  before  us,  to  know  that 
the  gospel  was  not  made  the  soul's  last  resource : 


156  JANUARY    30. 

tliat  the  last  days  of  life  were  not  all  that  was  offered 
to  God  by  our  departed  friend. 

^  It  may  perhaps  be  said  by  some,  if  the  mind 
had  for  a  length  of  time  been  thus  savingly  ira* 
pressed,  was  it  not  somewhat  singular  that  it  was 
not  sooner  followed  by  an  open  declaration,  and 
especially  by  the  act  of  Christian  fellowship.  To 
such,  however,  as  were  acquainted  with  the  de- 
ceased, this  will  easily  be  accounted  for.  He  was 
a  man  who  thought  very  deeply,  and  investigated 
the  subjects  which  engaged  his  attention  very 
closely:  and  thus  it  was  with  the  claims  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  with  the  character  of  the  gospel-scheme 
of  salvation.  He  wished  to  prove  all  things,  and 
to  prove  them  by  experience  as  well  as  conviction, 
before  he  made  that  open  declaration,  which  in 
time,  no  doubt,  would  have  been  made  by  him,  if 
his  life  had  been  spared.  Besides  this,  we  generally 
see,  that  when  persons  have  lived  much  amongst 
those'  who  are  religious,  without  being  religious 
themselves,  they  are  more  backward  to  acknow- 
ledge a  spiritual  change,  if  haply  it  takes  place  in 
their  own  hearts,  than  those  persons  are  who  have 
been  differently  circumstanced ;  and  then,  once 
more,  the  inconsistencv  of  professors  of  religion  is 
very  often  an  occasion  of  hindering  new  converts 
in  making  an  open  profession  so  soon  as  they  other- 
wise would.  They  fear,  lest  they  too  should  dis- 
honour the  gospel;  they  hesitate  to  wear  the  soldier's 


JANUARY   30.  157 

uniform,  though  the  loyalty  of  the  soldier's  heart 
beats  within  them. 

*  The  last  month  of  Dr.  Gordon's  life  afforded 
ample  time  for  the  development  of  the  real  state  oi 
his  mind,  and  nothing  could  be  more  decisive  and 
satisfactory  than  such  development  was.  Ail  re 
serve  was  throwm  aside,  his  very  soul  seemed  to  be 
laid  open,  and  his  communications  were  like  the 
distribution  of  hidden  treasures  to  those  who  stood 
around  him.  During  the  whole  of  this  period,  his 
delight  was  to  dwell  on  the  rich  and  glorious  pro* 
vision  made  for  sinners  in  Christ  Jesus.  The  gos- 
pel was  always  on  his  lips,  and  it  was  remarkable 
to  trace  the  extreme  clearness  of  his  views  on  all 
the  fundamental  articles  of  the  Christian  faith.  He 
spoke  on  the  Trinity,  the '  atonement,  justification 
by  faith,  the  soul's  renewal  in  holiness,  with  all  the 
accuracy  of  the  well-read  theologian.  I  never  heard 
him  utter  an  expression  which  need  be  either  cor- 
rected or  guarded,  and  this  circumstance  shews  that 
he  must  have  been  very  familiar  with  topics  to  which 
many  thought  him  a  stranger.  He  had  evidently 
studied  his  Bible  with  the  closest  attention,  and  had 
drawn  truth  in  all  its  freshness  from  the  fountain- 
head  ;  but  more  than  this,  it  was  God's  truth  in  its 
direct  and  personal  adaptation  to  man's  necessities, 
which  he  had  learnt,  and  learnt  for  himself,  under 
the  evident  teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  know- 
ledge was  not  merely  theoretic,  it  was  deeply  ex- 
14 


158  JANUARY   30. 

perimental.  On  one  occasion,  he  said  to  me,  "  1 
am  a  mass  of  corruption,  but  I  revel  in  the  atone- 
ment." And  on  another  occasion — "  Christ  is  so 
near  me,  I  seem  to  see  Him,  and  I  feel  him  too." 
His  love  for  the  Scriptures  was  most  fervent.  "That 
magnificent  book,"  he  would  say,  speaking  of  the 
Bible.  He  was  very  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense 
of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  often  spoke  of  the 
mixture  of  selfish  feelings  by  which  his  actions  had 
been  frequently  actuated,  and  of  his  need  of  the 
atoning  blood  of  Christ  to  wash  away  his  pollutions. 
"  I  never  saw  a  more  decided  instance  of  a  person 
casting  away  his  own  righteousness,  and  trampling 
if  under  foot ;  Christ  was  every  thing  to  him  ;  while 
the  breathings  of  his  soul  after  holiness  and  sancti- 
fication  of  the  Spirit,  were  intense  and  fervent.  To 
his  dependence  upon  his  Saviour's  merits,  may  be 
attributed,  under  God,  his  uninterrupted  enjoyment 
of  spiritual  consolation  all  through  his  illness.  No 
cloud  ever  overcast  his  sky.  The  valley  was  irra- 
diated with  perpetual  sunshine.  His  experience 
seemed  to  stand  out  to  view  as  a  living  elucidation 
of  that  beautiful  passage — "  Thou  shalt  keep  him 
in  perfect  peace,  whose  mind  is  stayed  on  Thee, 
because  he  trusteth  in  Thee."  In  fact,  such  was 
the  happy  state  of  his  mind,  all  the  day  long,  and 
so  constantly  was  he  giving  utterance  to  his  delight- 
ful feelings  in  the  near  prospect  of  heaven,  that  his 
chamber  seemed  like  any  thing  but  the  chamber  of 


JANUARY    30.  159 

death.  It  was  indeed  good  to  be  there,  and  no 
thoughtful  person  could  leave  that  chamber  me- 
thinks  without  breathing  forth  the  silent  aspiration, 
"Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my 
last  end  be  like  his." 

*  And  now^,  brethren,  I  leave  this  remarkable  case 
to  engage  your  serious  meditation,  as  I  trust  it  will 
do  when  you  return  home  ;  it  is  full  of  instruction 
and  rich  with  encouragement ;  it  is  not  the  case  of 
one  suddenly  wrought  upon  in  the  hour  of  nature's 
emergency,  a  case  of  mere  excitement  and  self- 
delusion,  such  as  we  too  often  see  and  hear  of;  it 
is  the  case  of  a  man  of  literature  and  science,  a 
man  of  talent  and  study,  thought  and  investigation^ 
becoming  a  little  child,  and  sitting  at  the  feet  of 
Christ  to  learn  from  Him  w^hat  he  could  learn  no 
w^here  else ;  it  is  the  case  of  one  whose  genuine 
and  healthy  faith  exhibited  its  reality  in  the  clus- 
tering blossoms  and  the  mellow^  fruit  w^hich  it  pro- 
duced ;  it  is  the  case  of  one  who  had  sought  the 
Saviour  secretly,  confessing  Him  openly ;  it  is  the 
case  of  one  who  had  over-estimated  the  value  of 
human  attainments,  brought  to  the  deliberate  con- 
viction, that  they  were  all  as  dross  and  dung  com- 
pared with  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ  and  Him 
crucified ;  it  is  the  case  of  one  who  had  done  homage 
at  the  shrine  of  reason,  now  bowing  to  the  supreme 
authority  of  revelation;  it  is  the  case  of  a  man 
who  once  thought  he  had  resources  sufficient  in 


160  JANUARY  30. 

himself,  taking  up  the  Apostle's  language,  and 
breathing  it  out  from  the  deep  recesses  of  his  heart, 
"  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am."  ' 

On  awaking  after  a  long  sleep,  he  took  the  writer's 
hand,  and  grasping  it  tenderly,  said — 'I  feel  I  am 
hastening  away  very  rapidly  to-day.  0  that  blessed 
Saviour !  How  I  love  Him.  Preach  him  J^rventli/y 
Newman!  Speak  of  that  blessed  book.  I  must 
have  some  more  of  it — read  me  some  chapters  in 
John.' 

Though  his  mind  was  so  occupied  with  the  great 
joys  and  hopes  of  the  gospel,  he  was  far  from  being 
indifferent  to  the  most  trivial  circumstances  passing 
around  him.  His  room  was  always  beautifully 
adorned  with  flowers,  continually  sent  to  him  bj 
kind  friends  from  the  country,  in  the  arrangement 
of  which  he  took  much  interest.  While  he  was 
apparently  dozing,  a  conversation  in  an  under  tone 
was  going  on  respecting  the  treatment  of  flowers, 
and  a  question  arose  w^hether  it  was  necessary  to 
change  the  water  in  hyacinth  glasses.  To  our  sur- 
prise, he  entered  into  the  subject  with  animation, 
saying  that  the  w^ater  should  be  changed  ;  and  that 
salt  should  be  put  into  the  water  of  cut  flowers, 
because  there  is  salt  in  the  earth,  that  it  acts  as  a 
stimulant,  and  preserves  them  longer.  This  is 
mentioned  as  only  one  instance  out  of  many,  to 
show  how  far  was  his  state  of  mind  from  that  en- 
thusiasm,  which   regards  with   indifference   every 


JANUARY    30.  161 

thing  but  the  one  subject  which  unhealthily  excites 
it.  His  care  to  have  the  room  always  preserved  in 
the  utmost  neatness,  his  attention  to  the  convenience 
of  all  around  him,  and  the  kind  inquiries  he  put  to 
his  visitors,  so  adapted  to  their  peculia/  circum- 
stances, were  features  in  his  case,  which  gave  a 
peculiar  interest  to  what  he  said  on  the  greatest  of 
all  themes.  He  was  no  spiritual  hermit,  notwith- 
standing his  spiritual  fervour,  but  was  still  the  gen- 
tleman, the  philosopher,  the  citizen,  the  husband, 
the  father,  the  friend. 

To  Mr.  P.,  who  expressed  his  surprise  at  wit- 
nessing such  composure,  he  replied — '  Confidence 
in  Christ  conveys  vigour  to  my  heart.  Without 
Him  I  should  be  very  weak.  Attribute  nothing  of 
it  to  me.  The  man  that  hopes  to  be  saved  by  his 
own  works,  will  have  very  little  peace  of  mind. 
He  must  think  of  himself  as  nothing,  literally  worse 
Hian  nothing  !' 

To  the  Agent  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Tempe- 
rance Society,  who  told  him  how  deeply  he  would 
be  regretted  in  the  town,  he  replied — *  I  wish  to 
live  in  the  affectionate  remembrance  of  my  friends  ; 
but  I  wish  them  to  have  the  same  enjoyment,  and 
they  can  only  have  it  by  seeking  Christ.  I  thought 
to-day  would  be  very  nearly  my  last ;  each  day 
brings  vrith  it  a  symptom  of  increasing  debility. 
Study  that  magnificent  book,  the  New  Testament.  • 
It  has  never  been  understood  yet.  Mr.  S.  reminded 
14* 


162  JANUARY    30. 

him  that  he  had  always  reverenced  it,  and  often 
referred  to  it  admiringly  in  conversation  with  him. 
Dr.  G.— '  I  never  understood  it  as  I  have  lately.' 
The  hope  being  expressed  that  he  would  spend  a 
comfortable  night,  he  replied — *  I  never  spend  any 
other !  I  am  a  marvel  to  myself.  The  Almighty 
himself  has  given  it  me.' 

In  conversation  with  his  family,  he  said — '  How 
can  I  help  loving  Him  ?  I  seem  to  see  him  with  his 
heavenly  countenance  smiling  on  me  now.  He  has 
pardoned  me,  washed  me,  clothed  me,  is  preparing 
mansions  for  me,—  I  feel  I  could  not  rebel  against 
Him !  What  are  men  about  when,  with  such  a 
theme,  they  can  preach  such  sermons  as  many  of 
them  deliver!  There  are  not  only  joys  to  come,  but 
joys  in  this  world.  Having  Him  so  near,  as  a  com- 
panion, takes  from  us  evil  thoughts,  ambition,  and 
avarice.  He  says  "If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  com- 
mandments." And  what  are  his  commandments? 
Not  grievous!  There  he  was,  seeking  me  out  first, 
and  not  I  seeking  Him  ! — And  w^hence  came  this  ? 
By  grace  we  are  saved  !  0  think  of  Christ.  How 
can  anyone  think  of  himself  ?  Analyze  any  one 
act  of  his  life,  how  imperfect,  compared  with  that 
pure  and  spotless  Being !  But  Christ  says,  though 
it  is  so,  "though  thy  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall 
be  white  as  snow!"  and  He  has  forgiven  me,  and 
•  clothed  me  with  the  robe  of  His  righteousness.     It 


'     JANUARY    31.  163 

has  come  to  me  in  so  mysterious  a  manner.     I  now 
see  how  full  of  love  the  whole  Bible  is!' 

N. — 'You  say  this  is  not  to  be  had  by  reason. 
Yet  religion  is,  after  all,  the  highest  and  best  reason, 
for  it  is  reliance  on  God,  and  He  must  be  true.' 

Dr.  G.— *  And  more  than  that.  What  do  men 
reason  for?  Is  it  not  to  obtain  happiness?  Then 
if  what  is  called  philosophy  and  learning  does  not 
produce  it,  but  this  does,  this  must  be  the  highest 
reason.' 

Wednesday,  Jan.  31.— He  had  very  little  sleep 
during  the  night,  and  was  much  exhausted  in  con- 
sequence, but  with  his  little  remaining  strength  he 
exerted  himself  to  waite  on  the  title  pages  of  several 
books  which  he  designed  as  mementos  of  his  affec- 
tion. It  w^as  observable  that  in  these  inscriptions, 
he  never  omitted  his  literary  titles,  an  indication 
that  however  he  condemned  human  reason,  when 
presuming  to  supersede  Divine  teaching,  he  was  no 
despiser  of  learning  in  its  proper  place.  This  was 
only  another  illustration  that  he  was  not  un-made  as 
a  man,  in  being  wez^-made  as  a  Christian. 

To  Mr.  A.  who  called  to  see  him,  he  said — '  I  am 
prostrate,  but  reconciled  and  happy.  I  have  found 
in  Christ  a  happiness  I  did  not  think  existed  on  this 
side  the  grave.  I  have  been  seeking  religion  for 
years  by  reason,  but  I  could  not  get  it,  and  I  have 
found  it  by  becoming  a  little  child.  That  is  the 
secret.     Let  me  advise  every  man  to  get  it  in  that 


164  JANUARY    31. 

way^  then  he  will  'see  all  its  beauties.  Reason  is 
nothing. — 0  what  joy !  People  have  said  that  Death 
is  frightful.  I  look  on  it  with  pleasure.  I  see  no 
monsters  around  me.  Death!  I  see  no  death  at 
my  bed-side.  It  is  that  benign  Saviour  waiting  to 
take  me.  I  could  not  have  a  fear.  This  is  not  the 
testimony  of  one  who  has  nothing  to  live  for.  I  am 
in  the  prime  of  life,  with  comforts  and  friends 
around  me,  but  the  prospect  of  Heaven  is  more 
than  all.  It  is  a  joy  man  knows  nothing  of.  0 
what  a  magnificent  book  that  New  Testament  is,— 
what  wisdom  there  is  in  it !' 

A  fear  being  expressed  that  he  had  felt  the  pre- 
ceding night  very  long,  through  wakefulness,  he 
said—*  0  no,  not  long  at  all.  I  have  been  too  happy. 
My  thoughts  have  been  in  Heaven,  and  in  that  beau- 
tiful cemetery.  I  fear  I  am  sinfully  impatient  in  so 
longing  after  Heaven,  but  it  is  so  glorious ! — Christy 
not  death,  is  about  to  take  me  from  earth.  There  is 
no  death  to  the  Christian. — That  glorious  gospel  takes 
away  death.' 

It  was  remarked  that  the  Bible  resembled  a  docu- 
ment written  with  invisible  ink,  there  being  a  hid- 
den secret  in  it,  which  none  can  understand,  till 
taught  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  He  fully  as- 
sented to  this,  saying  that  he  saw  and  felt  its  beauty 
and  power,  as  he  had  never  done  before ;  that  though 
he  had  always  possessed  a  sort  of  Christianity,  it 
was  not  such  as  he  enjoyed  then;  that  it  came  to 


JANUARY    31.  165 

him  in  a  manner  beyond  reason, ^changing  his  whole 
nature ;  that  he  now  understood  the  doctrine  of  the 
Spirit,  which  he  had  nerer  comprehended  before,  as 
well  as  that  of  the  Trinity,  but  'not  by  his  reason,'^ 
To  the  Rev.  William  Knight  he  said—'  Christ  is 
mine!     He  has  promised,  will  He  not  be  faithful? 
Then  I  am  safe.     Christians  have  doubts  and  fears, 
because  they  look  to  themselves.     I  don't  look  to 
myself.     I  am  a  mass  of  corruption,  but  I  revel 
IN  THE  ATONEMENT.     I  could  not  doubt.     To  think 
that  the  Saviour  descended  from  the  throne  of  God, 
to  suffer  all  the  sorrows  .of  humanity,  and  die,  to 
save  rebellious  man !     Can  I  doubt  when  I  go  to 
that  Saviour  ?     O  it  would  be  most  sinful !     I  shall 
never  see  Death,  that  monster  so  often  talked  of.    It 
is  Christ. — Ponder  every  verse,  every  word  of  that 
holy  book,  and  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  pour  it  into 
their  ears.     Tell  them  to  read  it  simply,  as  it  is, 
and  believe  it;  to  take  the  words  as  they  are,  and 
not  reason.     Reason  only  perplexes.     I  reasoned  : 
but  it  was  in  vain. — It  is  a  proof  to  me  that  that 
"^book  is  Divine,  because  reason  could  never  have 
written  it.' 

By  his  request,  the  writer  had  selected  a  spot  in 
the  cemetery  for  his  grave.  He  wished  it  to  be  in 
a  pleasant  situation,  with  flow^ers  growling  near.  A 
spot  was  therefore  chosen  beside  a  weeping  elm  in 
the  centre  of  the  grounds,  and  beneath  the  cluster- 
ing branches  '  f  some  climbing  rose  trees.     He  lis- 


^56  FEBRUARY    1. 

tened  with  much  pleasure  to  a  description  of  it,  and 
examined,  with  great  interest,  a  sketch  which  had 
been  taken  of  it,  saying — '  I'm  so  glad  you've  se- 
cured such  a  beautiful  place  for  me.'  His  love  of  ele- 
gance and  order  was  singularly  exhibited  in  his  re- 
quest, that  there  might  always  be  flowers  growing 
over  the  grave,  and  that  if  any  palisades  should  be 
placed  round  it,  they  might  be  kept  neatly  painted. 
His  feelings  were  rerj  similar  to  those  of  Kirke 
White,  expressed  in  the  beautiful  "  Lines  written  in 
Wilford  Church-yard:" 

'  Here  would  I  wish  to  sleep.     This  is  the  spot 

Which  I  have  long  marked  out  to  lay  my  bones  in. 
*  *  * 

It  is  a  lovely  spot.  »         *         * 

Yet  'twas  a  silly  thought,  as  if  the  body, 

Mouldering  beneath  the  surface  of  the  eartli, 

Could  taste  the  sweets  of  summer  scenery, 

And  feel  the  freshness  of  the  balmy  breeze ! 

Yet  nature  speaks  within  the  human  bosom, 

And  spite  of  reason,  bids  it  look  beyond 

His  narrow  verge  of  being,  and  provide  / 

A  decent  residence  for  its  clayey  shell 

Endeared  to  it  by  time.     And  who  would  lay 

His  body  in  the  city  burial  place, 

To  be  thrown  up  again  by  some  rude  sexton, 

And  yield  its  narrow  house  another  tenant, 

Ere  the  moist  flesh  had  mingled  with  the  dust, 

Ere  the  tenacious  hair  had  left  the  scalp, 

Exposed  to  insult  lewd,  and  wantonness?' 


FEBRUARY     1.  167 

Thursday.  Feb.  1. — After  a  restless  night,  he  was 
moved  to  a  mattress  on  the  floor,  that  the  bed  might 
be  arranged  for  his  greater  comfort.  His  body 
seemed  so  much  reduced  that  it  was  astonishing  how 
life  and  reason  could  be  retained  in  it.  This  move- 
ment caused  him  much  pain,  yet  not  a  murmur  es- 
caped him ;  and  when  replaced  on  the  bed,  he 
gratefully  and  cheerfully  said — '  Admirably  done  ;  I 
have  a  kind  God,  and  kind  friends.' 

Though  in  so  exhausted  a  state,  remembering 
some  accounts  which  were  unsettled,  he  called  for 
them,  and  his  memory  was  so  unimpaired  that  he 
discovered  a  trifling  error  in  one  of  them,  though 
the  transaction  had  occurred  a  long  time  previously. 
He  said  he  was  anxious,  as  much  as  possible,  to 
save  trouble  to  those  who  would  survive  him.  How 
different  was  his  conduct  to  that  selfish  indolence, 
which  often  passes  for  a  renunciation  of  the  world, 
when  the  world  is  already  beyond  the  grasp  !  He 
regarded  attention  to  those  trifles  which  might  in- 
crease the  comfort  of  others,  as  by  no  means  incom- 
patible with  his  exalted  spiritual  joys,  and  the  near 
prospect  of  eternity.  Earth,  as  long  as  he  remained 
in  it,  had  duties  from  which  the  proximity  of  Heaven 
did  not  absolve ;  and  the  pleasure  of  discharging 
them  was  not  in  the  least  diminished  by  his  inability 
tc  derive  from  them  any  personal  advantage.  It  is 
a  mistake  to  imagme  that  an  angel,  living  on  earth, 
would  take  no  interest  in  earthly  things.     His  very 


168  FEBRUARY    1. 

moral  excellence  would  prompt  him  to  a  course  O! 
conduct  in  harmony  with  any  circumstances  in 
which  his  Maker  might  place  him,  and  the  most 
trifling  duties  connected  with  this  world,  would  be 
associated  with  the  same  sacred  dignity  which  cha- 
racterises the  high  praises  of  the  celestial  choir. 
Religion  is  intended  to  overturn  nothing,  but  to 
sanctify  everything;  not  to  unfit  us  for  earth  by  pre- 
paring us  for  Heaven,  but  by  that  very  preparation, 
to  qualify  us  for  the  right  performance  of  present 
duties,  and  the  right  enjoyment  of  present  mercies. 
The  piety  which  in  making  the  saint,  unmakes  the 
man,  is  rather  to  be  suspected  as  enthusiastic  and 
incomplete,  than  reverenced  as  the  highest  develop- 
ment of  Christian  character,  which  is  always  found 
in  connection  with  truth  and  soberness,  and  is  ever 
in  harmony  with  all  that  God  has  ordained.  Much 
of  what  is  peculiarly  esteemed  as  saintly,  is  on  this 
account  rather  to  be  placed  in  quite  a  secondary- 
rank  of  Christian  attainment. 

He  dwelt  much  on  the  text — "This  is  a  faithful 
saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ 
Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom 
I  am  chief,"  adding  with  much  emphasis — ^Ah,  I 
am  chief.'  The  following  letter  from  the  author  of 
the  *  Sinner's  Friend,'  who  wrote  to  him  daily,  drew 
from  him  many  similar  remarks: — 

'My  beloved  brother, — Now  more  dear  than  eve", 
I  learn  that  you  are  still  detained  on  this  side  the 


FEBRUARY    1.  169 

celestial  city,  the  abode  of  our  blessed,  and  by  us, 
beloved  Redeemer.  He  keeps  you  here  a  little 
.\)nger,  that  you  may  bear  witness  to  his  saving 
^sower,  and  to  that  sovereign  grace  which  can 
ihange  the  heart,  and  cause  it  to  sing  in  the  way 
>f  holiness ;  for  you  do  sing  in  tones  which  excite 
the  joy  of  angels.  Sinners,  amongst  whom  I  am 
the  chiefest  of  the  chief,  (Dr.  G. — *No,  I  am  the 
chief,')  also  bless  our  God  on  your  account ;  and 
with  adoring  wonder  gaze  at  the  ransom  of  another 
soul,  bought  with  the  precious  blood  of  the  Son  of 
God.  What  thankfulness  does  your  case  draw  from 
those  who  have  so  often  presented  earnest  prayers 
for  your  precious  soul !  My  poor  petitions  have 
long  been  offered  on  your  behalf,  that  God  would 
unfold  to  you  his  love,  and  the  abundant  answer  to 
them  has  filled  me  with  wonder  and  praise.  You 
are  indeed  a  wonder  to  many,  but  the  greatest  to 
YOURSELF.  (Dr.  G.— '  Ah  !  that  I  am  !')  This  has 
been  my  own  case,  and  a  much  greater  wonder 
than  you,  my  beloved  brother.  But,  Oh  !  the  mag- 
nitude of  Divine  mercy !  Jesus  came  to  save  the 
LOST — therefore  I  have  been  found.  I  meet  you, 
in  spirit,  with  sacred  joy  every  day  at  one  o'clock 
at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  see  the  joy  beaming  in 
your  countenance,  and  hear  you  utter  the  name  of 
Jesus.  0  this  is  joyful  indeed,  and  I  shall  meet 
you  in  heaven,  we  shall  be  near  each  other,  and 
though  you  may  sing  loudly,  yet  my  voice  will 
15 


170  FEBRUARY  1. 

surmount  every  other,  because  I  ha\'e  mo?^e  to  say 
of  long-suffering  and  pardoning  mercy  than  all  the 
sinners  in  the  world.  God  be  praised,  'tis  his  own 
work.  But  I  am  not  yet  out  of  the  battle,  for  I 
have  a  terrible  conflict  to  maintain  every  hour ;  and 
were  it  not  that  the  Lord  has  equipped  me  (Eph. 
vi.  11 — 18,)  for  the  war,  I  should  become  a  prey  to 
the  enemy.  But  here  (John  x.  28,  29,)  is  my 
strength,  which  can  never  fail.  Your  heart  has  long 
been  in  Heaven,  and  now  your  soul  only  awaits  the 
final  summons  to  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord.  0  my 
beloved  friend,  with  what  raptures  shall  we  meet 
each  other  then !  God  be  praised  that  we  know, 
by  inward  evidence,  that  we  are  among  those  who 
have  passed  from  death  unto  life,  and  that  nothing 
can  separate  us  from  the  Lord!'  Dr.  G.— 'Write 
to  him  in  reply,  that  I  am  the  greatest  sinner ;  yes, 
indeed  !  tell  him  that !' 

A  deep  conviction  of  sin  is  one  of  the  best  proofs 
of  Divine  teaching.  It  is  neither  singular  nor  ex- 
travagant, that  eminent  believers  should,  with  the 
Apostle  Paul,  feel  themselves  to  be  "the  chief  of 
sinners  ;"  for  though  the  external  life  of  one  man 
may  be  far  less  criminal  than  that  of  another,  j^et, 
as  guilt  is  estimated  by  God  according  to  the  de- 
gree of  holy  motive  resisted,  every  one  must  neces- 
sarily be  conscious  of  more  sinfulness  in  himself 
than  he  can  know  to  be  chargeable  to  any  one  else. 
Though  there  may  be  greater  guilt  than  his  own, 


FEBRUARY    2.  171 

this  is  not  within  his  knowledge.  As  far  as  his  own 
experience  enables  him  to  judge,  there  is  no  greater 
sinner  than  himself.  But  so  humble  an  estimate  is 
never  formed  unless  the  Holy  Spirit  has  'opened 
the  understanding,'  and  changed  the  heart.  This 
evidence  of  regeneration  was  abundantly  furnished 
in  the  case  of  Dr.  Gordon,  who,  notwithstanding 
the  external  blamelessness  of  his  life,  repeatedly 
spoke  of  himself,  evidently  with  deep  emotion,  as 
"the  chief  of  sinners."  He  said — 'I  am  so  deeply 
sensible  of  my  unworthiness  and  wickedness  !  But 
then  I  look  to  Christ,  and  He  has  pardoned  me, 
washed  me,  and  clothed  me  in  his  robe  of  righte- 
ousness ;  and  why  then  should  I  fear  ?  This  is  why 
I  am  now  contented  and  happy,  with  no  dread  of 
death,  because,  though  I  see  my  own  vileness,  I  see 
Christ  as  my  Saviour.  .  Now  that  I  have  got  this 
truth  myself,  it  seems  wonderful  that  any  one  should 
refuse  to  receive  it.' 

■  Friday,  Feb.  2. — The  state  of  his  health  being 
made  the  subject  of  conversation,  he  said — '  0 
speak  to  me  about  Christ.  I  want  to  hear  of  Him. 
No  other  subject  interests  me  so  much.'  Being 
asked  how  he  felt  as  compared  with  a  w^eek  before, 
he  replied,  'O  I  have  so  little  interest  in  my  physi- 
cal condition,  that  I  don't  remember.  I've  had  a 
delightful  night ;  peace  unbroken  and  indescribable. 
When  once  we  feel  the  love  of  Christ,  it  gives  new 
views  of  every  thing!' 


172  FEBRUARY    2. 

In  the  afternoon,  he  suffered  considerable  j  ain 
and  was  evidently  much  worse.  As  his  family  were 
standing  round  his  -bed  in  much  distress,  he  said— 
'  Don't  grieve  for  me.  I  feel  I  could  not  murmur 
again.  Talk  about  my  blessed  Redeemer.  His 
marked  kindness  to  me  has  been  so  great.  Philo- 
sophy do  this  for  me  ?  Absurd  !  This  gives  me 
peace,  to  hear  him  say — *^  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  wall  give  you 
rest."  ' 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  V.  H.  arriving  unexpectedly  in 
the  evening,  from  Maidstone,  that  they  might  have 
the  melancholy  pleasure  of  bidding  him  farewell, 
the  following  conversation  took  place  : — 

Dr.  G. — '  How  kind  to  come  and  see  so  unworthy 
a  creature  !' 

Mr.  H. — '  You  are  a  monument  of  mercy.' 

Dr.  G. — *  I  am  indeed,  I  am  as  black  as  sin  can 
make  me.' 

Mr.  H. — ^  We  grieve  to  lose  you,  but  the  will  of 
God  must  be  done.' 

Dr.  G. — *  That  is  what  you  must  say,  what  I  say, 
every  hour.' 

Mr.  H.— '  We  ought,  not  only  to  submit  to,  but 
acquiesce  in  His  will.' 

Dr.  G. — Very  earnestly — *  I  love  it.' 

Mr.  H. — '  Don't  let  me  weary  you,  but  I  love  to 
talk  of  the  grace  of  God.' 


rEBKUARY   2.  173 

Dr.  G. — '  I  should  like  to  hear  it  talked  of  from 
morning  to  night.' 

Mr.  H. — *  I  am  afraid  of  exciting  you.' 

Dr.  G. — '  It  does  not  excite  me.  I  love  it.  I 
nave  had  a  joy  and  a  peace  which  I  did  not  know 
existed.  And  how  did  I  get  it }  There's  the  kind- 
ness, the  blessing  !  No  clouds,  no  doubts,  no  fears, 
— peace  unbroken.  I  am  a  marvellous  instance  of 
the  gracious  interposition  of  a  kind  God.  If  He 
sought  me  w^hen  I  did  not  seek  Him,  why  should  I 
doubt,  now  I  have  gone  to  Him  !  0  that  magnifi- 
cent book!' 

N. — '  The  wise  cannot  understand  it,  but  only  the 
fool  and  the  babe.' 

Dr.  G. — '  Human  wisd6m  is  folly,  folly  !  though 
I  once  did  not  think  so.  I  have  felt  my  degradation 
and  my  black  wickedness,  but  He  has  forgiven  me, 
and  washed  me !' 

Mr.  H. — 'What  a  blessing  that  He  "has  forgiven 
us  all  trespasses."  They  alone  know  this  peace 
who  have  tasted  it.     You  have.' 

Dr.  G. — '  I  have  indeed.  If  such  an  impossi- 
bility could  take  place  as  that  I  should  be  restored, 
nothing  could  give  me  the  least  trouble.  I  do  not 
think  fear  of  any  kind  could  ever  enter  my  breast. 
Had  I  no  other  evidence  than  my  own  feelings,  of 
the  truth  of  Christianity,  it  would  be  sufficient.  If 
all  the  world  were  Anti-Christian,  I  should  be  a 
Christian.' 

16* 


174  .  FEBRUARY   2. 

Mr.  H. — '  This  confidence  is  from  God.  Not  all 
the  books  you  have  read  could  have  given  it.' 

Dr.  G.,  emphatically — 'Never!' 

Mr.  H. — '  I  remember  once,  thinking  it  folly  to 
talk  of  being  born  again.  We  knew  not  what  it 
meant.' 

Dr.  G. — '  But  we  know  now.  It  is  the  strong 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  which  gives 
me  peace  and  blessedness.  It  has  so  changed  my 
whole  nature.     This  is  the  evidence.' 

N. — '  John  Newton,  when  entangled  by  scepti- 
cism, resolved  to  test  the  truth  of  Christianity  by 
seeking  the  Divine  influence  promised  in  answer  to 
prayer,  arguing  that  if  the  religion  were  true,  the 
result  of  such  seeking  would  be  an  evidence  of  it.' 

Dr.  G. — '  That  is  the  argument  which  weighs 
with  me. — No  mere  reason  of  man  could  have  writ- 
ten that  book.  Reason  may  find  fault  with  it,  but 
could  not  have  made  it.  0  it  is  a  book  !  read  every 
word  of  it,  and  believe  it  just  as  it  is.' 

On  taking  leave  for  the  night,  he  said — '  Let  me 
see  a  great  deal  of  you.  Constant  talk  of  my  blessed 
Saviour,  will  be  my  greatest  happiness.' 

Mr.  H. — '  How  blessed  it  is  to  feel  a  thrill  of  joy. 
within  at  the  name  of  Jesus  !' 

Dr.  G.— '  To  know  it  in  the  head,  is  not  to  know 
it.' 

Mr.  H. — *  I  have  been  called  mad  because  I  love 
Christ,  and  delight  to  talk  of  Him  continually.' 


FEBRUARY  3.  175 

Dr.  G. — *  I  wish  all  the  world  were  mad.— -My 
blessed  Saviour  is  always  w^ith  me.' 

He  was  much  fatigued  by  this  conversation,  the 
last  of  any  length  in  which  he  was  able  to  take  part. 
The  time  of  his  departure  was  evidently  near,  and 
though  he  suffered  no  violent  pain,  seasons  of  dis- 
tressing and  alarming  exhaustion  became  so  fre- 
quent, that  almost  every  hour  was  expected  to  be  his 
last. 

Saturday,  Feb.  3. — His  faculty  of  observation 
continued  to  be  so  keen,  that  on  awaking  this  morn- 
ing he  noticed  that  a  vase  on  the  mantel-piece  at 
the  extremity  of  the  room,  was  not  exactly  even 
with  the  corresponding  one,  and  desired  that  it  might 
be  arranged  properly.  He  shaved  himself  with  a 
little  assistance,  and  settled  a  few  accoiyits.  He 
said  at  different  times — '  What  set  of  men  could  have 
written  a  book  so  adapted  to  our  wants  as  the  Bible, 
unless  they  had  been  taught  by  God  ? — It  must  be 
felt  in  the  heart  and  not  merely  understood  in  the 
head. — I  did  think  mine  a  hard  lot,  but  since  this 
came  to  me,  I  have  deeply  repented  of  that  w^icked- 
ness,  and  thought  it  a  blessed  lot.  The  Lord  knew 
what  He  was  doing  with  me. — It  is  only  having 
Christ  with  me  that  takes  away  my  fear.  What  a 
blessed  thing  to  have  Him  for  your  Friend  and 
Brother! — I  have  much  to  say,  but  I  cannot  speak. 
Tell  them  what  God  has  done  for  me.'  In  the  after- 
noon, he  was  so  exhausted  as  to  appear  on  the  point 


176  FEBRUARY   3. 

of  death.  To  the  remark — '  you  are  going  home/ 
he  responded — 'I  feel  at  home  already.'  Then  at 
intervals  he  added — *  What  great  things  the  Lord 
has  done  for  me  ! — I  love  Him,  and  why  ?  because 
of  his  love  to  me. — O  what  a  book  it  is,  meeting 
you  at  all  points,  adapted  to  all  conditions!'  It 
being  observed  that  his  learning  and  wisdom  could 
not  have  taught  him  this,  he  replied — *  0  my  wis- 
dom \  a  poor,  degraded,  wicked,  ignorant,  foolish 
child  !  A  fear  being  expressed  that  though  able  to 
say  very  little  himself,  so  much  conversation  carried 
on  by  others  at  his  bed-side  would  exhaust  him,  he 
said — *  No,  it  does  not — it  strengthens  me — it  in 
vigorates  me !' 


CHAPTER    IX. 

FROM    SUNDAY,    FEB.    4,    TO    HIS    DEATH,    ON 
WEDNESDAY,     FEB.    7. 

DEATH  SWALLOWED  UP  OF  LIFE — LORd's  SUPPER INCREAS- 
ING DEBILITY — DEATH CONCLUDING  ADDRESS — CHRISTI- 
ANITY NOT  A  DELUSION — WHAT  IT  TEACHES — THE  JOY  IT 
IMPARTS. 

Sunday  Feb.  4. — Dr  Gordon  was  now  too  feeble  to 
bear  any  sustained  part  in  conversation.  What  he 
said  was  chiefly  an  earnest  response  to  what  was 
uttered  by  others ;  but  the  intense  feeling  concen- 
trated in  his  emphatic  '  aye,'  eloquently  revealed 
how  strong  his  faith  and  how  bright  his  hopes  con- 
tinued to  be. 

To  Mrs.  E. — '  My  gracious  God  has  been  very 
merciful  to  me.  He  has  given  me  a  joy  I  never  felt 
before,  an  inconceivable  joy  !' 

Mrs.  E. — ^  I  hope  we  shall  all  meet  in  the  New 
Jerusalem,  where  there  will  be  no  more  dying.' 

Dr.  G.,  emphatically — '  There  is  none  here  J* 

177 


178  FEBRUARY   4. 

Mrs.  E. — '  I  hope  He  will  give  you,  to  the  end, 
that  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding.' 

Dr.  G.— '  I  have  it.' 

Death  was  quite  lost  sight  of  by  him.  How 
striking  his  reply  to  the  remark,  that  there  will  be 
no  dying  in  heaven, — *  there  is  none  here  V  He 
looked  on  departing  to  be  with  Jesus,  as  *  far  bet- 
ter.' Death  was  indeed,  in  his  case,  *  swallowed 
up  of  life.'  The  day  following,  he  said  to  Mr.  S., 
a  friend  who  came  from  the  country  to  visit  him, 
and  who  was  speaking  of  the  state  of  his  health, 
*  I  shall  live ;' — a  reply  which  to  those  unacquainted 
with  the  peculiar  state  of  his  mind,  might  be  re- 
garded as  intimating  the  possibility  of  restoration 
to  health,  but  which  he  meant  as  a  declaration  of 
his  conviction,  that  there  could  be  no  death  to  a 
believer  in  Christ.  He  realized  the  full  import  of 
our  Saviour's  words,  **  I  am  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life :  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live,  and  he  that  liveth  and  be- 
lieveth in  me,  shall  never  die?''  This  was  a  theme 
continually  referred  to  in  conversation  around  his 
bed,  and  on  which  he  delighted  to  dwell.  He  felt 
that  there  would  be  no  interval  of  unconsciousness, 
no  cessation  of  activity,  no  intermission  of  enjoy- 
ment ;  that  though  the  mode  of  existence  would  be 
changed,  the  existence  itself  would  be  neither 
destroyed  nor  suspended ;  that  to  be  absent  from 
the  body  was  to  be  instantly  present  with  the  Lord, 


FEBRUARY   4.  179 

and  that  if  life  is  to  be  estimated  by  the  exercise 
of  the  spiritual  faculties,  as  these  will  all  be  vastly 
augmented  when  the  soul  is  separated  from  the 
corruptible  body,  that  separation  is  rather  to  be  de- 
signated life  than  death.  How  much  happier  would 
Christians  be,  did  they  thus  realize  the  great  truths 
made  known  to  them  in  the  gospel !  Christ  came 
to  ''destroy  death,  and  him  that  hath  the  power 
of  death,  t^at  is,  the  Devil ;  and  to  deliver  them, 
who,  through  fear  of  death,  were  all  their  life- 
time, subject  to  bondage."  How  very  seldom  is 
Death,  as  such,  spoken  of  in  the  New  Testament' 
The  writers  seem  to  regard  it  as  annihilated  in  the 
case  of  the  believer.  We  live  here,  surrounded  by 
many  m^cies,  but  exposed  to  many  sorrows,  and 
conscious  of  much  imperfection ;  and  surely  that 
great  event  in  our  history  which  transports  us  to 
the  full  possession  of  the  promised  inheritance, 
where  no  element  of  grief  shall  be  mingled  in  the 
cup  of  gladness,  where  no  lingering  corruption 
shall  interfere  with  our  obedience  and  defile  our 
worship,  where  no  temptation  shall  ever  demand 
viofilance  and  conflict,  where  no  weariness  shall 
suspend  our  service,  but  ceaseless  activity  shall  be 
the  rapture  of  repose,  and  where  death  being  for 
ever  excluded,  eternity  will  be  stamped  on  every 
enjoyment, — surely  the  event  which  introa'ices  us 
to  such  a  state  of  being,  cannot  correctly  be  desig- 
nated, Death.     No,  it  is  rather  Life.     The  dead  are 


186  FEBRUARY  4. 

those  who  are  left  behind,  not  those  who  thus  de- 
part, and  the  moment  of  dissolution  is  the  birth 
of  the  soul.  The  ordinary  sepulchral  emblems  are 
most  inappropriate  to  the  case  of  a  departed  saint 
The  torch,  instead  of  being  reversed  and  extin 
guished,  now  blazes  with  a  living  light  and  quench- 
less energy  it  never  before  possessed.  The  column 
instead  of  being  shattered,  is  now  firmly  fixed, 
while  its  fair  proportions  and  exquisite  polish  are 
only  now  completed.  Death  is  the  portal  of  life, 
the  dawn  of  immortality,  the  transition  into  Hea- 
venly glory.  Every  Christian  may  say  with  Dr. 
G.—^  I  shall  live!' 

Reference  being  made  to  the  grace  of  Christ  in 
bestowing  His  own  righteousness  on  the  sinner, 
while  taking  away  the  sinner's  guilt,  he  said, — '  It 
is  that  which  removes  all  my  fear ;  every  particle 
of  fear;  nothing  else  could!'  Being  reminderi 
that  a  few  days  before,  he  had  said,  that  he  did 
not  see  Death  at  his  bed-side,  and  being  asked  if 
he  saw  him  now,  he  replied, — ^  No !  it  is  Christ, 
who  has  washed  us !'  Then,  after  a  few  minutes' 
silence,  he  said  spontaneously  and  with  earnestness, 
— 'I  have  Christ  by  me.  See  Death  ?  I  see  nothing 
but  Christ.'  Sir  W. — '  You  now  see  the  beauty  and 
glory  of  the  plan  of  salvation.'  Dr.  G. — *  I  do — 
and  more — I  fekl  it. — I  have  nothing,— but  God 
and  Christ.'  N. — *What  a  happiness  to  have  Christ 
svithin  yoru,  the  hope  of  glory!'     Dr.  G.— "I  /eel 


FEBRUARY  4.  181 

Him :  I  have  laid  hold  on  Him  ;  I  have  embraced 
Him. — What  love  to  have  brought  me  to  this  ! — I 
love  to  hear  you  talk  of  that  merciful  Saviour.' 
Mr.  J.  V.  H. — *  You  must  not  let  me  tire  you,  but 
the  love  of  Christ  so  fills  my  heart  that  it  seems  as 
if  it  would  burst,  if  I  did  not  speak  of  Him  !'  Dr. 
G. — '  Let  it  burst  on  me  !' 

By  his  ovi^n  request,  the  Lord's  Supper  was  again 
celebrated  in  his  room.  The  beautiful  hymn  of  Dr. 
Watts'  was  sung — 

'  There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight 
Where  saints  immortal  reign  ; 
Infinite  day  excludes  the  night, 

And  pleasures  banish  pain,'  &c.  &c. 

After  each  verse  the  children's  chorus  was  sung — 

•  We're  marching  through  Immanuel's  ground, 
And  soon  shall  hear  the  trumpet  sound, 
O  then  we  shall  with  Jesus  reign. 
And  never,  never  part  again. 
What !  never  part  again  1 
No,  never  part  again — 
O  then  we  shall  with  Jesus  reign. 
And  never,  never  part  again !' 

None  but  those  who  have  sung  such  a  hymn 
under  similar  circumstances,  can  understand  its 
full  meaning  and  effect.  It  was  a  reality.  There 
lay  one  on  the  very  verge  of  that  ^  land  of  pure 
delight.'  We  were  bidding  him  farewell,  but  were 
16 


182  FEBRUARY  4. 

convinced  it  was  not  a  final  separation,  looking 
forward  to  that  home  which  death  does  not  invade, 
and  from  which  Hhey  go  no  more  out  for  ever.' 
The  passage  of  Scripture  which  was  read,  was  pecu- 
liarly applicable  to  the  occasion— "  Verily  I  say 
unto  yoUj  I  will  no  more  drink  of  this  fruit  of  the 
vine,  until  I  drink  it  new  with  you  in  my  Father's 
kingdom."  We  all  felt  convinced,  that  when  next 
we  met  at  such  a  celebration,  it  .would  be  in  the 
"  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born" 
above.  At  the  close  of  the  service,  the  well-known 
hymn  of  Toplady's  was  sung,  ^  Rock  of  Ages,'  to 
which  Dr.  G.  always  listened  with  great  interest. 
Most  fully  did  he  respond  to  the  sentiment  of  the 
third  verse — 

*In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring-, 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cling ; 
Naked,  come  to  Thee  for  dress, 
Helpless,  look  to  thee  for  grace,  ^ 
Leprous,  to  the  fountain  fly, 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die.* 

And  the  last  verse  was  felt  to  be  especially  ap- 
propriate to  his  present  circumstances — 

•  While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyelids  close  in  death. 
When  I  soar  to  worlds  unknown, 
See  Thee  on  Thy  judgment  throne, 
Rock  of  ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee.' 


FEBRUARY    5.  183 

Another  hymn,  in  which  he  was  much  interested, 
and  which  he  requested  might  be  frequently  read 
to  him,  was  one  of  Newton's, — *What  think  ye  of 
Christ,'  to  the  last  verse  of  which  he  frequently  re- 
ferred as  expressing  his  own  feelings : — 

If  asked,  what  of  Jesus  I  think? 
Tho'  still  my  best  thoughts  are  but  pooFj 
I  say — He's  my  meat  and  my  drink, 
My  life  and  my  strength  and  my  store ; 
My  shepherd,  my  husband,  my  friend, 
My  Saviour  from  sin  and  from  thrall ; 
My  hope  from  beginning  to  end, 
My  portion,  my  Lord,  and  my  all. 

While  lying  in  a  state  of  much  exhaustion,  he 
suddenly  and  earnestly  asked  for  a  cushion.  We 
thought  he  w^anted  it  to  raise  his  head  a  little 
higher,  but  to  our  surprise  he  said — *  For  dear  aunt 
to  lean  on ;'  having  noticed  that  his  beloved  sister- 
in-law  was  uncomfortably  seated  and  appeared 
fatigued.  So  considerate  w^as  he,  to  the  very  last, 
of  the  convenience  of  others. 

As  the  night  advanced, his  pulse  became  so  feeble, 
that  it  w^as  thought  he  w^ould  not  survive  till  the 
morning.  Yet,  in  all  the  intervals  of  dozing,  he  re- 
quested that  hymns  and  passages  of  Scripture  might 
be  read,  frequently  uttering  an  expression  of  plea- 
sure, and  requesting  that  a  mark  should  be  placet 
in  the  margin  of  whatever  specially  interested  him. 

Monday,  Feb.  5.     Contrary  to  all  expectation,  he 


184  FEBRUARY    5. 

Still  survived.  On  awaking,  he  asked  for  some- 
thing to  be  read  to  him  on  the  subject  of  the  cruci- 
fixion. He  could  now  speak  but  very  little,  though 
he  was  never  wearied  with  listening  to  conversa- 
tion or  reading  on  those  subjects  which  occupied 
his  thoughts.  What  he  said  was  chiefly  responsive, 
and  very  brief.  The  following  will  serve  as  a  speci- 
men : — *  Is  Jesus,  precious  to  you  now  ?' — '  0  yes  !' 
*  You  w^on't  be  wearied  of  singing  his  praises  in 
heaven  ?' — '  No !  I  shan't !'  '  You  are  clothed  with 
that  white  robe ?' — '  I  am  !'  'Do  you  feel  any  fear 
now  V — '  Not  the  slightest !'  '  Human  reason  and 
goodness  as  a  foundation,  would  give  way  at  a  time 
like  this.' — '  It  would  indeed.'  '  Though  you  are 
going  to  a  better  Friend,  you  love  us  still  ?'  Look- 
ing round  very  affectionately  at  us  all,  he  fixed  his 
eyes  on  his  wife,  and  said,  '  My  dear  one,'  and  then 
holding  his  daughter's  hand,  he  added — '  My  darl- 
ing child !'  After  this,  Mrs.  J.  V.  H.,  taking  leave 
of  him  for  a  few  hours,  he  requested  that  his  right 
hand  might  be  lifted  from  under  the  bed-clothes. 
This  w^as  done  hastily,  from  a  fear  that  the  position 
of  the  arm  might  be  giving  him  pain,  but  his  ob- 
ject was  to  clasp  her  hand,  which  he  did  very 
atfectionately,  saying — *  You'll  not  forget  it.'  Then 
he  added — '  I  am  a  marvellous  illustration  of  HiiJ 
goodness!' 

He  complained  of  his  memory  failing,  and  of 
double  vision.     It  was  very  distressing  to  witness 


FEBRUARY    6.  185 

his  extreme  exhaustion.  He  was  now  ani^ole  to 
turn  himself,  nor  could  he  be  moved  for  the  bed  to 
be  made.  As  we  stood  beside  him,  thinking  his 
end  was  at  hand,  he  said  very  tenderly  to  his 
daughter — ^  My  darling  child  !' — She  replied — '  0 
Papa,  what  can  we  do  without  you!*  Dr.  G. — 
'  Trust  in  the  Saviour !'  He  then  requested  some 
of  those  around  him  to  seek  repose,  saying — ^  the 
living  must  not  kill  themselves  for  the  dead.' 

Tuesday,  Feb.  6. — He  was  again  much  revived. 
Several  friends  called  to  see  him,  though  he  was 
unable  to  speak  to  them,  except  in  monosyllables. 

The  following  poem  of  Herbert's  drew  from  him 
strong  expressions  of  pleasure.  He  requested  that 
it  might  be  marked  for  further  reference  : — 

A  PARADOX. 

THE    WORSE    THE    BETTER. 

Welcome  mine  health  :  this  sicliness  makes  me  well. 
Medicines  adieu ! 
When  with  diseases  I  have  list  to  dwell, 
rU  wish  for  you. 

Welcome  my  strength  :  this  weakness  makes  me  able. 

Powers  adieu ! 
When  I  am  weary  grown  of  standing  stable, 

I'll  wish  for  you. 

Welcome  my  wealth  :  this  loss  hath  gained  me  more. 

Riches  adieu ! 
When  I  again  grow  weary  to  be  poor, 

I'll  wish  for  you. 
16* 


186  FEBRUARY    6. 

Welcome  my  credit :  this  disgrace  is  glory. 

Honours  adieu ! 
When  for  renown  and  fame  I  shall  be  sorry, 

I'll  wish  for  you. 

Welcome  content :  this  sorrow  is  my  joy. 

Pleasures  adieu ! 
When  I  desire  such  griefs  as  may  annoy, 

I'll  wish  for  you. 

Health,  strength,  and  riches,  credit  and  content, 
Are  spared  best  sometimes  when  they  are  spent : 
Sickness  and  weakness,  loss,  disgrace  and  sorrow, 
Lend  most  sometimes,  when  they  seem  most  to  borrow. 
Blest  be  that  hand  that  helps  by  hurting,  gives 
B}  taking,  by  forsaking  me  relieves. 
If  in  my  fall  my  rising  be  Thy  will, 
Lord,  I  will  say,  The  worse  be  better  still. 
I'll  speak  the  Paradox,  maintain  Thou  it, 
And  let  Thy  grace  supply  my  want  of  wit, 

Leave  me  no  learning  that  a  man  may  see, 

So  I  may  be  a  scholar  unto  Thoe.' 

In  the  afternoon,  by  his  request,  his  favourite 
chants,  '  Behold  I  shew  you  a  mystery,'  and  '  The 
Lord  is  my  shepherd,'  with  the  beautiful  hymn, 
^  There  is  a  happy  land,'  all  so  peculiarly  suited  to 
his  circumstances,  were  sung  in  an  adjoining  room, 
that  mellowed  by  distance,  the  sound  might  be  the 
better  suited  to  his  debilitated  condition. 

Mrs.  G. — '  You  are  very  weak,  but  are  you  ab'e, 
notwithstanding  this  debility,  to   take  pleasure  in 


FEBRUARY  6.  187 

thinking  of  Christ  ?  Dr.  G.—'  0  yes !'  Mrs.  G.— 
*  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed,  *  Feel  soft  as  downy 
pillows  are,'  and  that's  true  in  your  case.'  Dr.  G. 
— '  Yes,  indeed  !'  Sir  W.  L.—' You've  no  anxiety 
—no  fear  ?'     Dr.  G.,  emphatically—'  None !' 

The    symptoms  became  very   alarming  towards 
evening  ;  and  about  midnight,  as  we  were  all  w^atch- 
ing  round  his  bed,  fearing  his  consciousness  was 
gone,  his  daughter,  taking  his  hand,  said— '  Its  your 
child,  father!'     Dr.  G.,  with   much   tenderness— 
*My  great  gem!'     Then   turning  to   his  wife,  he 
said— 'And  is  this  Mater?'  fixing  on  her  a  look  of 
indescribable    affection.      He    afterwards,    in   like 
manner,  recognised  all  present  individually,  with  an 
expression  of  countenance  which  can  never  be  for- 
gotten.    N.— '  Christ  is  with  you.'     Dr.  G.— 'I  feel 
Him !'    N. — '  We  are  broken-hearted  in  the  prospect 
of  losing  you.'     Dr.  G.— '  We  shall  all  live  together 
in  Heaven ;  cleave  close  to  Christ — walk  with  Him.' 
N. — *  Then  He  will  bring  us  to  you.     You  see  Him 
smiling  on  you.'     Dr.  G.— '  Yes,  and  1  feel  Him,' 
N.— -'  Though  death  conquers  your  frail  body,  yet 
you  are  the  real  conqueror,  through  Him  that  loveth 
us.'     Dr.  G.— '  0  yes  !'     N.— 'Your  quick  feeble 
pulse  (generally  at  one  hundred  and  twenty)  is  hur- 
rying you  away,  but  you  are  not  afraid  ?'     Dr.  G 
— '  No,  I  never  had  a  fear.'     N.— '  There  is  nothing 
b  fear,  if  Christ  is  our's.     You  can  say—"  0  Death, 


188  FEBRUARY  7. 

where  is  thy  sting?"'  Dr.  G.,  very  emphatically 
— 'I  can  indeed  !' 

Wednesday,  Feb.  7,  2  .o'clock,  a.  m.  He  called 
for  some  refreshment,  but  the  effort  of  eating  was 
very  exhausting  to  him.  From  a  fear  that  the  light 
on  the  tray  might  distress  him,  he  was  asked  if  it 
should  be  removed.  Dr.  G. — *not  while  you  are 
'  here:'  implying  his  wish  to  look  on  the  faces  of  his 
family.  He  then  said—*  But  when  am  I  to  leave 
you  ?'  N. — '  One  of  our  medical  friends  told  us 
you  would  not  see  the  day-light.'  Dr.  G. — '  No, 
I  shall  live  longer  than  that.'  Desiring,  but  unable  to 
to  speak  more,  N.  said — *  You  cannot  talk  now,  but 
we  know"  what  you  would  say  if  you  could.  Your 
heart  is  full  of  love  to  us  and  to  Jesus.'  Dr.  G., 
very  earnestly — *  That  is  it.' 

At  6  o'clock,  A.  M.  it  w^as  evident  from  the  sud- 
den change  which  had  taken  place  in  his  appear- 
ance that  his  end  was  at  length  rapidly  approaching. 
E.— 'You'll  soon  be  in  heaven!'  Dr.  G.— *  Ye's, 
and  you'll  all  follow  me,  and  I'll  welcome  you.  We 
all  hold  the  same  principles.'  E.  repeated  the 
twenty-third  Psalm,  and  on  coming  to  the  verse — 
"Though  I  w^alk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil :  for  thou  art  with  me  ; 
thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me."— Dr.  G. 
responded — *  Yes,  if  He  were  not  with  me,  how 
dark  it  would  be— but  its  all  light !' 

At  8  o'clock,  having  awaked  from  a  short  sleep. 


TEBRUARY  7.  1S9 

he  listened*  with  deep  interest,  to  some  of  Laving- 
ton's  '  Sacramental  Meditations,'  on  the  love  of 
Christ  in  first  inviting  the  sinful  soul  to  come  to  Him 
for  pardon,  and  then  calling  that  soul  to  the  posses- 
sion of  glory.  Passages  from  the  close  of  Baxter's 
<  Saint's  Rest,'  were  also  read  ;  Dr.  G.  manifesting 
in  his  beaming  countenance,  his  full  concurrence 
and  heartfelt  delight,  in  the  sentiments  expressed. 
This  was  especially  the  case  in  reference  to  the  fol- 
lowing hymn  of  Toplady's  : — ■ 

TRIUMPH    OVER    DEATH. 

'  Deathless  principle  arise  I 
Soar  thou  native  of  the  skies! 
Pearl  of  price,  by  Jesus  bought, 
To  his  glorious  likeness  wrought! 
Go,  to  shine  before  his  throne ; 
Deck  his  mediatorial  crown  ; 
Go,  his  triumph  to  adorn  : 
Made  for  God,  to  God  return. 

*  Lo !  he  beckons  from  on  high  : 
Fearless  to  his  presence  fly  : 
Thine  the  merit  of  his  blood, 
Thine  the  righteousness  of  God  ! 
Angels,  joyful  to  attend, 
Hovering,  round  thy  pillow  bend  ; 
Wait  to  catch  the  signal  given, 
And  escort  thee  quick  to  heaven. 

'  Is  thy  earthly  house  distrest, 
Willing  to  retain  its  guest  ] 


190  FEBRUARY   7. 

'Tis  not  thou, — but  it  must  die 
Fly,  celestial  tenant,  fly ! 
Burst  thy  shackles ;  drop  thy  clay  ; 
Sweetly  breathe  thyself  away. 
Singing,  to  thy  crown  remove, 
Swift  of  wing  and  fired  with  love. 

'See  the  haven  full  in  view! 
Love  Divine  shall  bear  thee  through. 
Trust  to  that  propitious  gale ; 
Weigh  thy  anchor,  spread  thy  sail. 
Saints  in  glory  perfect  made, 
Wait  thy  passage  through  the  shade : 
Ardent  for  thy  coming  o'er ; 
See !  they  throng  the  blissful  shore. 

'  Mount,  their  transports  to  improve ; 
Join  the  longing  choir  above ; 
Swiftly  to  their  wish  be  given; 
Kindle  higher  joys  in  heaven.— 
Such  the  prospects  that  arise 
To  the  dying  Christian's  eyes ; 
Such  the  glorious  vista,  faith 
Opens  through  the  shades  of  death,' 

His  daughter,  awaking  from  a  short  slumber, 
after  watching  all  the  night,  was  greatly  distressed 
to  see  his  altered  features,  and  the  obviously  near 
approach  of  death.  On  her  saying — *  0  what  am  I 
to  do  without  you.  Papa  .^'  he  replied,  by  directing 
his  eye  from  herself  to  her  husband,  and  looking  at 
him  most  tenderly. 


FEBRUARY    7.  191 

About  noon,  M.  A.  R.,  a  friend  coming  in  from 
the  country  once  more  to  bid  him  farewell,  he  made 
a  great  effort  to  speak,  saying,  'Give  her  a  chair,' 
so  politely  considerate  was  he  to  the  very  last,  of 
the  comfort  of  others. 

Sir  W.  L.  entering  his  room,  was  much  shocked 
to  witness  his  altered  appearance,  and  said — '  This 
looks  like  a  defeat,  Gordon,  but  it's  a  victory.''  Dr. 
G.  emphatically,  though  in  a  w^hisper — 'It  is!' 
Sir  W.— '  We  shall  often  think  of  you.'  Dr.  G.— 
'Thank  you!'  Sir  W. — 'You  can  say — "Thanks 
be  to  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory."  '  Dr.  G. 
— 'Indeed  I  can.' 

N. — '  If  sin  be  pardoned,  I'm  secure 
Death  has  no  sting  beside ; 
The  law  gives  sin  its  damning  power, 
But — Christ  my  Saviour  died  !' 

Sir  W.—' That's  your  consolation — Christ  my  Sa- 
viour died.'  Dr.  G. — '  Yes,  it  is  !'  N. — '  We  are 
on  this  side  the  river,  but  Christ  is  on  the  opposite 
bank  beckoning  you  to  himself.'  Dr.  G. — '  He  is  !' 
N. — '  We  cannot  bear  to  part,  but  w^e  shall  meet  in 
Heaven.'  Dr.  G. — '  Christ  is  there.'  He  said  this 
with  peculiar  emphasis,  as  if  to  convey  the  idea, 
that  however  great  the  joy  which  the  reunion  of 
friends  would  impart,  and  none  more  fully  entered 
into  this  than  himself,  yet  that  the  chief  joy  of  the 
heavenly  world,  would  arise  from  the  presence  oi 
Jesus,  and  resemblance  to  Him. 


192  FEBRUARY    7. 

He  then  asked  the  author  to  read  some  favourite 
hymns,  and  passages  of  Scripture,  to  which  he 
hstened  with  an  expression  of  earnest  attention  and 
delight.  Several  friends  having  arrived,  he  beckoned 
all  present  to  his  bed-side,  and  placing  his  finger  on 
his  mouth,  intimated  his  wish  to  bid  us  a  final  fare- 
well. Such  indeed  it  was  felt  to  be,  for  those  lips, 
to  the  affectionate  and  holy  utterances  of  which  we 
had  so  long  delighted  to  listen,  were  already  cold, 
and  denoting  the  approach  of  death.  He  then  said 
to  his  attached  man-servant,  *  God  bless  you, 
Tranmer. — He  will  be  with  you  and  be  your  friend. 
Persevere  in  godliness  and  purity  of  life.'  Then  to 
another  faithful  domestic,  and  his  nurse,  he  added, 
'  You  have  been  a  kind  friend  to  me.'  He  thus 
manifested  to  the  last  that  gratitude  for  the  kind 
offices  of  servants,  and  that  appreciation  of  regard 
from  persons  of  upright  character  in  every  grade  of 
society,  which  had  so  eminently  distinguished  him 
throughout  his  life. 

In  order  to  secure  quietness,  and  a  free  circula- 
tion of  air,  most  of  the  party  now  retired  to  another 
room.  When  left  alone  with  his  nearest  relatives, 
he  said,  as  if  carrying  on  some  train  of  thought  in 
his  own  mind — *  It's  what  I  like  to  hear!'  Being 
asked  if  he  meant  that  it  w^as  Christ  and  His  love 
which  he  took  such  pleasure  in,  he  replied  earn- 
estly— ^Aye!'  After  a  pause,  during  which  his 
thoughts  were  evidently  intent  on  the  heavenly  city 


FEBRUARY    7.  193 

he  was  so  soon  to  enter,  he  said — *  Repeat  that 
about  the  great  army!'  Mr.  Knight  replied — "I 
beheld,  and  lo,  a  great  multityde,  which  no  man 
could  number,  of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and 
people,  and  tongues,  stood  before  the  throne  and 
before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes,  and 
palms  in  their  hands,  and  cried  with  a  louH  voice, 
saying.  Salvation  to  our  God,  which  sitteth  upon 
the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb."  The  author 
added — "  What  .are  these  which  are  arrayed  in 
w^hite  robes,  and  whence  came  they  ?  These  are 
they  which  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have 
washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb.  Therefore  are  they  before  the 
throne  of  God,  and  serve  Him  day  and  night  in  His 
temple,  and  He  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  shall  dwell 
among  them.  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither 
thirst  any  more,  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them, 
nor  any  heat.  For  the  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them 
unto  living  fountains  of  waters,  and  God  shall  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  their  eyes." 

Though  he  said  nothing,  his  expressive  counte- 
nance plainly  manifested  that  his  request  had  been 
understood.  He  was  by  faith,  beholding  '  that 
great  army'  whom  he  was  so  soon  to  join  in  cele- 
brating the  high  anthem  of  Heaven — "  Blessing 
and  honour,  and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for 
17 


194  FEBRUARY    7. 

ever  and  ever."  Prayer  was  then  offered  by  Mi, 
Knight,  in  which  we  unitedly  commended  the  spirit 
of  our  dying  friend  to  the  care  of  his  Divine  Sa- 
viour, praising  God  on  his  behalf,  for  the  abundant 
grace  and  strong  consolation  with  which  he  was 
favoured. 

After  we  had  risen  from  our  knees,  still  conside- 
rate for  others,  he  asked  if  his  brother-in-law  would 
take  some  refreshment— fearing  he  had  not  break- 
fasted. This  led  to  some  remarks  on  the  feast  of 
bliss  which  Jesus  was  preparing  for  all  his  followers, 
and  to  which  he  was  at  that  moment  waitinof  to  re- 
ceive  our  beloved  friend  as  a  guest.  To  this  he 
replied  in  a  tone  of  earnest  desire — '  I  wish  He 
would  come !' 

He  then  took  a  most  tender  farewell  of  his 
afflicted  wife.  To  his  daughter,  who  bent  over  him, 
in  great  distress,  he  said,  with  inexpressible  tender- 
ness— '  Bless  thee,  my  child  !'  'You  love  me  still, 
father?'  'Yes,  dearly.'  He  then  opened  his  hand, 
which  had  now  almost  lost  its  power  of  motion, 
for  the  purpose  of  receiving  hers,  which  he  tenderly 
pressed  together  with  that  of  the  writer.  This  was 
its  last  act. 

After  a  pause,  he  said  suddenly,  but  not  without 
considerable  effort — 'Bring  them  all.'  His  mean- 
ing not  being  at  first  apprehended,  various  sugges- 
tions were  made  by  those  around  him,  respecting 
the  probable  nature  of  his  wish,  to  all  of  which  he 


FEBRUARY  7.  195 

expressed  his  dissent  by  a  motion  of  the  head.  It 
,vas  very  painful  not  to  be  able  at  once  to  gratify 
his  desire,  as  he  was  most  anxious  to  make  us 
understand  him,  though  he  now  seemed  to  have 
entirely  lost  the  power  of  speech.  But  making  one 
more  attempt,  with  a  desperate  struggle  he  whis- 
pered— '  Every  body!' 

These  were  his  last  words.  They  were  an  evi- 
dence how  fully  conscious  he  was,  of  his  being  on 
the  point  of  departure,  as  well  as  a  final  and 
striking  illustration  of  his  thoughtful  regard  to 
others.  We  imagined  he  might  yet  survive  an  hour 
or  two,  but,  judging  from  his  own  feelings  that  his 
departure  would  be  immediate,  and  knowing  the 
melancholy  satisfaction  of  being  present  at  the 
actual  death  of  a  dear  friend,  of  which  they  might 
be  deprived  who  had  kindly  quitted  his  room  lest 
he  should  be  inconvenienced  by  a  crowd,  his  last 
effort  of  affection  was  to  summon  all  in  the  house, 
into  his  chamber,  which  was  now  filled  with  sorrow- 
ing but  silent  friends. 

It  was  indeed  a  solemn  season !  Grief  itself 
was  awed  into  stillness,  by  the  majesty  of  death. 
What  event  can  boast  such  dignity  ?  It  was  the 
exit  of  a  soul !  It  was  his  entrance  into  glory ' 
Angels  were  there  waiting  to  be  the  escort !  The 
Lord  of  angels  Himself  was  present,  "  He  who 
liveth,  and  was  dead,  and  is  alive  for  evermore, 
and  hath  the  keys  of  Death  and  of  Hades."     He 


196  FEBRUARY   7. 

himself  turns  the  lock,  and  opens  the  door,  dis- 
missing from  this  world,  and  welcoming  into  the 
next,  the  souls  of  all  who  believe  and  obey  Him ! 
We  felt,  as  we  watched  the  departure  of  our  friend, 
that,  to  use  his  own  beautiful  words,  it  was  '  no 
frightful  monster  at  his  bed-side,  but  that  benignant 
Saviour  waiting  to  receive  him." 

Increased  difficulty  of  breathing  was  the  only 
distressing  symptom.  He  appeared  no  longer  con- 
scious of  what  took  place  around  him.  He  gazed 
upwards  as  in  a  rapt  vision.  No  film  overspread 
his  eyes.  They  beamed  v/ith  an  unwonted  lustre, 
and  the  whole  countenance,  losing  the  aspect  of 
disease  and  pain,  with  which  we  had  been  so  long 
familiar,  glowed  with  an  expression  of  indescri- 
bable rapture.  As  we  watched  in  silent  wonder 
and  praise,  his  features,  which  had  become  motion- 
less, suddenly  yielded  for  a  few  seconds,  to  a  smile 
of  ecstacy  which  no  pencil  could  ever  depict,  and 
which  none  who  witnessed  it,  can  ever  forget.  And 
when  it  passed  away,  still  the  whole  countenance 
continued  to  beam  and  brighten,  as  if  reflecting  the 
glory  on  which  the  soul  was  gazing.  Like  Ste- 
phen, he  was,  by  faith,  looking  up  to  Heaven,  and 
with  a  clearer  vision  than  may  be  hoped  for,  till 
the  river  of  death  is  well  nigh  passed,  was  behold- 
ing through  the  opening  gates  of  glory,  "  the  Son 
of  man  standing  at  the  right  hand  of  God."  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say,  that  as  far  as  the  expression 


FEBRUARY   7.  197 

of  holy  rapture  could  contribute  to  it,  like  Ste- 
phen's, ^'  his  face  was,  as  it  had  been  the  face  of 
an  angel." 

Though  his  emaciated  frame,  propped  up  by 
pillows,  was  incapable  of  the  least  effort,  yet  such 
was  the  effect  on  the  bystanders  of  his  upward, 
outstretching  gaze,  that  even  the  motionless  body 
itself  seemed  to  be  reaching  forward  as  if  impa- 
tient for  the  summons  to  depart.  We  saw  as  much 
as  mortal  eye  could  see,  of  the  entrance  of  a  soul 
into  glory.  Nothing  more  could  have  been  given 
us,  but  the  actual  vision  of  the  separate  spirit,  and 
its  angelic  convoy.  This  glorious  spectacle  lasted 
for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  increasing  in  interest 
to  the  last,  during  which  the  soul  seemed  pouring 
itself  forth  from  the  frail  tenement  which  had  im- 
prisoned it,  into  the  embrace  of  its  Lord.  The 
breathing  now  became  shorter  and  shorter — then, 
after  a  long  pause,  one  last  gentle  heaving  of  the 
chest — and,  without  a  struggle,  at  two  o'clock,  the 
soul  had  fled ! 

Was  this  dying  ?  All  present  felt  that  their  de- 
parted friend  had  never  before  been  so  emphatically 
alive.  How  fully  were  his  own  words  realized, 
that  he  should  not  die  I  There  was  grief,  but  no 
gloom  in  that  chamber.  The  glory  of  Heaven 
seemed  to  illumine  it.  The  sun  had  gone  down 
while  it  was  yet  day,  in  full  radiance,  without  a 
cloud,  and  the  reflexion  still  rested  on  those  who 
17* 


198  FEBRUARY    7. 

had  watched  its  setting.  We  could  not  look  on  that 
corpse  and  imagine  for  a  moment  it  was  our  friend. 
It  was  but  the  dwelling  in  which  for  a  little  season 
he  had  lodged.  He  himself  had  now  entered  that 
"  building  of  God,  the  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens."  The  weary  pilgrim  had 
landed  on  the  shore  of  the  celestial  Canaan,  and 
was  welcomed  by  angels  and  by  Christ.  The 
Christian  Philosopher,  having  long  been  tri- 
umphing OVER  DEATH,  now,  '  morc  than  conqueror,' 
had  exchanged  the  conflict,  for  the  crown  of  life 
which  fadeth  not  away.    It  was  rather  a  translation 

than  a  death.     He  was  not,  for  God  took  him. 

\ 

'Thus  star  by  star  declines, 

Till  all  are  passed  away, 
As  morning'  high  and  higher  shines 

To  pure  and  perfect  day  : 
Nor  sink  those  stars  in  empty  night, 
But  hide  themselves  in  heaven's  own  light 


CONCLUSION 


A.FTER  the  perusal  of  the  preceding  narrative,  the 
thiee  inquiries  with  which  it  opened,  are  again 
respectfully  urged  on  the  reader's  attention: — Is 
Christianity  from  God"?  What  does  Christianity 
teaui  9      What  can  Christianity  effect  ? 

Reader,  can  you  close  this  volume,  with  the 
deliberate  conviction  that  the  great  subject  it 
attempts  to  illustrate,  is  a  delusion  ?  If  so,  it  can 
onl)  be  owing  to  the  inadequacy  of  the  description, 
for  sarely  no  one  could  have  witnessed  for  himself 
that  chamber  of  death,  without  feeling  his  scepti- 
cism shaken.  It  was  not  an  ignorant  enth\isiast 
who  manifested  such  joy ;  it  was  not  a  despiser  of 
learning  who  so  cast  reasoning  aside.  It  was  a 
man  of  acute  and  powerful  intellect,  of  varied  and 
profound  learning,  whose  whole  life  had  been  spent 
in  investigation,  whose  independence  of  thought 
was  proverbial,  who  during  many  years  had  pon- 
dered all  the  objections  adduced  by  scientific  men 
and  philosophers,  against  the  divine  origin  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  who  pronounced  the  result  to  be  so  firm 


200  CONCLUSION 

a  conviction  of  its  truth,  that  *  though  all  the  world 
were  antichristian,'  his  faith  would  still  be  unshaken. 

He  had  found  in  the  Gospel,  what  everything 
else  had  failed  to  supply.  The  necessities  of  his 
nature  were  met.  The  cravings  of  his  soul  were 
satisfied.  Apart  from  all  external  evidence,  he 
affirmed  the  religion  itself  to  be  its  own  witness,  in 
its  felt  adaptation  to  human  wants  and  human  woes. 
It  made  him  happy  in  the  midst  of  severe  trials,  and 
though  life  presented  to  him  every  attraction,  he  was 
not  only  resigned,  but  rejoiced,  to  leave  it. 

Some  meet  death  without  fear,  because  they  are 
thoughtless,  and  consider  not  the  momentousness 
of  it ;  or  superstitious,  and  rely  on  frivolous  cere- 
monies to  prepare  them  for  it ;  or  self-righteous, 
and  by  a  vain  esteem  of  their  own  merits,  think 
themselves  in  justice  secure  from  all  penal  conse- 
quences of  it ;  or  sceptical,  and  by  the  theory  of 
sleep  ^or  annihilation,  take  away,  in  their  estimation, 
the  terror  of  it.  It  is  not  surprising  that  such  men 
should  meet  death  with  little  dread.  But  he,  enter- 
taining the  most  ample  and  vivid  conceptions  of  the 
solemn  consequences  of  dying ;  with  the  judgment- 
seat,  and  the  final  sentence,  and  the  eternal  award 
full  in  view  ;  conscious  of  guilt  in  himself,  as  he 
was  convinced  of  the  stern  integrity  of  the  judge 
before  whom  he  must  stand,  and  the  righteous 
requirements  of  the  law  by  which  he  must  be  tried  ; 
and  as  devoid  of  the  least  superstitious  reliance  on 


CONCLUSION.  201 

any  ceremonies,  to  prepare  him  for  the  great  event, 
as  he  was  of  the  slightest  reference  to  any  good- 
ness of  his  own,  as  entitling  him  to  an  acquittal 
before  the  tribunal  of  a  Holy  God, — he  could  still 
anticipate  the  approtich  of  what  soiajd  call  the  king 
of  terrors,  as  that  of  a  welcome  friend. 

Was  the  religion  which,  while  it  admitted  the 
truth  of  reason's  anticipation  of  a  future  existence, 
and  countersigned  those  accusations  which  every 
faithful  conscience  must  adduce  against  its  posses- 
sor, and  recognised  the  justice  of  the  Omniscient 
ruler  and  the  holiness  of  His  righteous  law ;  yet  at 
the  same  time  allayed  every  anxiety,  and  imparted 
a  blissful  hope  of  endless  felicity — was  this  merely 
a  delusion  ?  If  so,  how  happy  are  the  victims  of 
it !'  Who  might  not  reasonably  wash  to  be  the  sub- 
ject of  an  infatuation  which  elevates  the  moral 
nature,  which  dignifies  humanity,  which  qualifies 
for  the  discharge  of  all  the  duties,  and  the  endu- 
rance of  all  the  trials  of  life,  which  gives  comfort 
to  the  sorrowful,  and  fresh  elation  to  the  glad,  which 
can  throw^  such  a  halo  of  joy  around  the  pilgrim 
throughout  the  journey  of  life,  and  enable  him  to 
anticipate  its  termination  with  hope  rather  than 
terror !  Yes  !  be  it  a  delusion,  the  Christian's  por- 
tion is  nevertheless  far  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  the 
unbeliever,  and  he  w^ho  should  convince  him  of  his 
mistake,  w^ould  rob  him  of  that  which  the  wealth  of 
the  universe  would  be  insuflScient  to  replace. 


202  CONCLUSION. 

If  it  is  a  delusion,  it  is  one  in  which  multitudes 
have  shared,  not  of  the  ignorant  merely,  but  of  the 
wisest  of  mankind.  The  testimony  of  Dr.  Gordon 
io  the  felt  truth  and  power  of  religion,  has  substan- 
tially been  given  by  millions  besides,  both  of  the 
dead  and  the  living ;  of  men  in  all  countries  and 
of  all  conditions.  Add  to  this  experimental  evi- 
dence, the  external  and  historical  proofs  of  the  truth 
of  Christianity,  which  no  subtlety  has  ever  yet  been 
able  to  refute,  but  which  every  fresh  investigation 
tends  to  strengthen  and  multiply;  and  can  you  be 
quite  sure  that  all  is  a  mistake  ?  You  may  suppose 
this,  but  can  you  prove  it?  Must  you  not  admit 
that  it  may  be  true  ?  Is  there  not  a  voice  w^ithin,  a 
moral  nature  which  whispers,  despite  all  your  so- 
phistry, that  at  least  there  is  a  probability  that 
Christianity  is  Divine  ? 

Ponder  well  what  that  probability  involves  before 
you  treat  it  with  indifference.  It  is  probable  that 
there  is  after  death  a  righteous  judgment,  a  Heaven, 
and  a  hell ;  probable  that  the  soul  will  live  for  ever, 
and  that  unless  it  obtains  the  salvation  provided  in 
the  gospel  it  will  be  lost!  If  this  is  a  mere  proba- 
bility, since  the  risk  incurred  is  so  tremendously 
great,  is  it  not  the  extravagance  of  folly  to  neglect 
the  gospel  ?  If  men  think  there  is  a  probability 
that  their  property  or  their  lives  may  be  in  danger, 
do  they  not  take  precautionary  measures  zealously 
and  at  once  ?     How  much  more  should  you,  when 


CONCLUSION.  203 

there  is  a  probability  that  the  soul  is  in  dangp^ ! 
If  there  is  a  prohahility  of  success  in  any  path  of 
commercial  enterprise  or  worldly  ambition,  how 
many  and  how  eager  are  the  competitors,  though 
it  is  only  a  may  be  and  some  must  certainly  fail. 
And  if  men  thus  act  in  reference  to  the  riches  that 
are  corruptible  and  the  crowns  that  fade,  should 
you  not  much  more  be  earnest  when  there  is  a  pro- 
bability of  winning  Heaven  with  its  imperishable 
glories  and  eternal  joys.''  Should  not  the  mere 
chance,  if  it  be  only  a  chance,  induce  you  patiently 
to  investigate  such  a  system,  and  diligently  to 
labour  to  make  its  probable  advantages  your  own  ? 
For  should  it  eventually  prove  a  delusion,  you 
would  have  been  no  loser ;  but  should  it  be  proved 
to  be  from  God,  how  infinite  your  gain  if  a  Chris- 
tian,— how  irremediable  your  loss,  if  not ! 

But  it  is  more  than  a  probability.  "  Heaven 
and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  God's  word  shall 
not  pass  away."  Be  entreated  then,  reader,  how- 
ever you  may  boast  of  the  depth  of  your  philosophy 
and  the  acuteness  of  your  reason,  to  study  the 
Bible,  as  did  Dr.  Gordon,  in  the  spirit  of  a  little 
child,  seeking  to  be  taught  of  God,  and  then  in 
answer  to  your  prayer — "  Open  thou  mine  eyes" — 
you  will  "behold  wondrous  things  out  of  God's 
law." 

But  if  Christianity  is  indubitably  from  God,  what 
does  it  teach  ?     If  w^e  are  to  gather  a  reply  from 


204  CONCLUSION. 

.Jie  preceding  narrative,  Christianity  is  not  a  heart- 
less assent  to  any  creed  or  formulary  of  faith — it  is 
not  the  punctual  performance  of  a  routine  of  cere- 
monies— it  is  not  zealous  adherence  to  any  par- 
ticular system  or  church — it  is  not  a  mere  course 
of  human  virtue,  integrity,  and  benevolence.  The 
Christianity  of  Dr.  Gordon  was  more  than  this. 
Teaching  him  the  evil  of  his  own  nature,  it  led 
him  to  seek  the  renewing  and  sanctifying  influence 
of  the  Spirit  of  God,  by  whom  he  became  a  "  new 
creature,  old  things  passing  away,  and  all  things 
becoming  new."  Revealing  to  him  his  own  guilt 
and  his  Saviour's  grace,  it  laid  him  low^  in  self- 
abasement  and  godly  penitence,  while  it  enabled 
him  to  rejoice  in  the  all-sufficient  sacrifice  of  Christ, 
and  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  to  ^  revel  in  the  atone- 
ment.^ It  displayed  the  Creator  to  his  view  as  a 
God  of  love,  his  companion,  his  friend,  his  Father, 
rendering  sin  against  such  a  Being  the  object  of 
intense  abhorrence,  and  holiness  his  greatest  desire 
and  delight.  The  Bible  became  to  him  the  best  of 
books,  prayer  the  most  precious  of  privileges,  the 
love  of  Christ  the  most  engrossing  of  themes,  and 
the  prospect  of  heaven  the  most  transporting  of 
hopes. 

Reader,  if  your's  is  a  religion  which  allows  you 
to  think  complacently  either  of  your  piety  or  your 
virtue;  if  it  does  not  humble  you  in  the  dust  ot 
contrition,  and  cause  you  to  rely  on  Christ  alone 


CONCLUSION.  205 

for  salvaticn ;  if  it  does  not  warm  your  heart  with 
love  to  God,  and  render  it  impossible  for  you  to 
live  in  the  indulgence  of  any  thing  which  is  dis- 
pleasing to  Him ;  if  it  does  not  make  you  delight 
in  submission  to  His  authority  and  in  the  con- 
templation of  His  word — then  your  Christianity 
essentially  differs  from  that  described  in  this  book. 
But  was  not  Dr.  Gordon's  religion  that  of  the  Bible.'* 
If  so,  what  is  yours  ? 

To  the  inquiry,  *  what  can  Christianity  effect  ?' 
an  emphatic  reply  is  furnished  in  the  "  peace  which 
passeth  all  understanding,"  and  "  the  joy  unspeak- 
able and  full  of  glory,"  which  Dr.  Gordon  so 
abundantly  enjoyed.  Why  should  such  a  case  be 
at  all  remarkable  ?  What  reason  is  there  why  all 
believers  should  not  thus  habitually  rejoice  ?  Have 
they  not  the  same  Father,  the  same  Saviour,  the 
same  Sanctifier,  the  same  promises,  and  the  same 
hopes  ?  May  not  all  Christians  'make  a  companion 
of  God!'  Has  not  the  blood  of  Christ  washed 
away  their  sins  ?  Are  they  not  "  accepted  in  the 
beloved?"  Have  they  not  "received  the  earnest 
of  the  Spirit  into  their  hearts,  teaching  them  to  cry, 
Abba,  Father  ?"  Do  not  all  things,  sorrows  as  well 
as  joys,  "  work  together  for  their  good  ?"  Do  they 
not  carry  about  a  charmed  life  which  nothing  can 
injure  ?  Is  there  not  care  for  them  in  Heaven  ?  Are 
not  angels  their  ministering  spirits  ?  Does  not  God 
himself  ever  watch  over  them  to  shield  them  from 
18 


206  CONCLUSION. 

all  harm,  and  supply  them  with  all  good  ?  Is  not 
the  grace  of  Jesus  sufficient  for  them,  and  has  not 
He  promised,  that  "they  shall  never  perish?"  Is 
not  death  deprived  of  its  sting  in  their  case?  Is  it 
not  true  of  them  that  believing  in  Him  who  is  ^'the 
Resurrection  and  the  Life,  they  shall  never  die?" 
Are  not  mansions  of  glory  preparing  for  them,  to 
the  enjoyment  of  w^hich  death  is  only  the  mes- 
senger ?  When  that  hour  comes,  will  it  not  be 
"  far  better  to  depart  and  be  with  Jesus  ?" 

If  men  of  the  world  rejoice  in  those  riches  and 
honours  and  delights  which  are  so  unsatisfactory,  so 
uncertain,  and  so  fleeting,  should  Christians  who 
have  such  exalted  privileges,  such  boundless  pos- 
sessions, such  transporting  hopes,  ever  appear  with 
a  sad  countenance  ?  Should  they  not  always  wear 
a  srnile  of  gladness,  and  stand  on  the  tip-toe  of 
delight  and  expectation  ?  Should  they  not  thus 
prove  to  the  world  how  much  superior  is  the  Chris- 
tian's portion,  even  here  ?  Should  they  not  honour 
tlie  giver  of  such  joy  by  the  fullest  appreciation  and 
reception  of  the  gift  ?  If  the  banquet  is  so  plenti- 
ful, should  they  not  comply  w^ith  the  invitation — 
"  Eat,  0  friends,  drink  abundantly,  0  beloved  ?" 
We  are  not  only  permitted  but  commanded  to  rC' 
joice.  "Be  glad  in  the  Lord,  ye  righteous,  and' 
shout  for  joy,  all  ye  that  are  upright  in  heart." — 
"  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  your 
joy  might  be  full." — "  Finally,  my  brethren,  rejoice 


CONCLTJSION.  207 

in  the  Lord. — Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always,  and 
again  I  say,  rejoice  "  ! 

But  how  is  this  to  be  attained  ?  By  simple  re- 
liance on  the  word  of  God.  If  w^e  believe  w^hat 
He  has  spoken,  we  can  neither  be  afraid  nor  deject- 
ed. He  has  provided  "  strong  consolation,"  for  all 
who  have  "  fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold  on  the  hope 
set  before  them  in  the  gospel."  Instead  of  con- 
tinually pondering  our  own  guilt  and  frailty,  let  us 
contemplate  the  all-sufficiency  of  Christ !  Instead 
of  debating,  and  arguing,  and  resolving  to  have 
every  mystery  explained,  before  we  derive  comfort 
from  the  "  exceeding  great  ana  precious  promises" 
of  God's  word,  let  us  in  the  humility  of  faith,  and 
with  the  simplicity  of  little  children,  take  God  at 
His  word,  believe  that  He  loves  us,  and  rejoice  in 
His  salvation.  This  was  the  secret  of  Dr.  Gordon's 
peace.  Without  hesitation,  he  threw  himself  on  the 
promises  of  the  gospel,  and  experienced  that  "  per- 
fect love  casteth  out  fear."  To  conclude  with  his 
own  emphatic  words,  which  furnish  the  best  and 
most  comprehensive  reply  to  these  three  inquiries: — 

*  I  REASONED,  AND  DEBATED,  AND  INVESTIGATED, 
BUT  I  FOUND  NO  PEACE  TILL  I  CAME  TO  THE  GOSPEL 
AS  A  LITTLE  CHILD.  ThEN  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  SEEMED 
TO  FILL  MY  HEART.  I  SAW  MY  SINFULNESS  IN  ALL 
ITS  VIVID  DEFORMITY,  AND  FOUND  THERE  WAS  NO 
ACCEPTANCE  W^ITH  GOD  AND  NO  HAPPINESS  EXCEPT 
THROUGH    THE    BLESSED    REDEEMER.        I    STRIPPED 


208  CONCLUSION. 

OFF  ALL  MY  OWN  DEEDS— WENT  TO  HIM  NAKED HE 

RECEIVED  ME  AS  HE  PROMISED   HE  WOULD THEN   I 

FELT  JOY  UNSPEAKABLE,  AND  ALL    FEAR    OF    DEATH 
/^T  ONCE  VANISHED.' 


THE    END. 


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